


A Rose By Any Other Name

by dechagny



Series: Espressaroma [1]
Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8096359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dechagny/pseuds/dechagny
Summary: William Lamb-Melbourne owns a failing florists next door to an abandoned coffee shop, but his dull work life (and personal life) is about to change as Victoria, the new owner of the cafe, arrives, determined to make drastic changes to their failing business ventures.





	1. A Force of Nature

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Роза, как её не назови](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10707417) by [knock0ut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knock0ut/pseuds/knock0ut)



The old coffee shop stood empty and battered in the corner of the street, a shell of its former glorious self with nothing more than the ghostly memories of its prime. Half of the windows were smashed through and boarded up, whilst the other half had been used for crude graffiti and as the base for a mosaic of bubblegum. The grand wooden door was chipping at the edges and rusting off of its hinges having not been opened for quite some time. Inside, the tables and chairs were thrown across the dirty, scratched floor, dust had settled on every single surface you could think of, the light-bulbs were either burnt out or smashed. It was a small shop that had been abandoned by its previous owners after it failed to make enough money to keep the business afloat – the owners took what was in the till and fled (but not before smashing up the shop that had made their lives hell for a number of years.) No one knew the state of the flat upstairs but everyone who walked by assumed that it was just as terrible.

Next door was a florist, who, despite not having made a profit for a number of years either, refused to shut up shop. William Lamb-Melbourne had owned the shop for almost a life time and he felt like he had amalgamated into the furniture – if he left now then a part of himself would be missing. He would rather you chopped off one of his arms or legs than make him give up the shop that had provided him with so much comfort over the years. In his youth he began to grow his own flowers, plants and vegetables and decided, as he got older, he ought to sell his wares so others could appreciate their scents, their shapes, their meanings. He didn't want his hard work to be only for himself and for it all to die and wither without appreciation. Melbourne's wife had appreciated the vase of fresh flowers he put up in their home every week, the home-grown vegetables for dinner, the bright green shade of their garden. Their son had loved it too. Melbourne knew the activity of the street like he knew the back of his hand. He knew that Mrs Johnson walked past every day at 9:15am and 4:15pm on her way to and from work. He knew the postman did his rounds at 8:45am, that Mr Horrick bought a small bunch of multi-coloured carnations every second Monday and that the coffee shop next door had been left untouched for five years. Melbourne, knowing and observing all for a number of years found the day that a brightly polished, sleek silver car pulling up outside the coffee shop, suspicious. He watched it from over his mug of instant black coffee, eyes fixed to it like a bird stalking its prey. An older woman, who Melbourne thought must have have been around his age, stepped out of the car. She was neatly dressed without so much as a crease in clothes, her perfectly curled hair fell gracefully around her shoulders, but she had an air of worry and disapproval etched on to her face as she disappeared out of sight, stepping towards the abandoned shop. A younger, shorter woman followed her, grinning in her dungarees and her hair carelessly tied back into a bun, a world away from the older woman – she soon disappeared out of sight too, bounding over to the shop door on the balls of her feet.

“Are you sure about this, 'Drina? This doesn't seem like something appropriate for you,” the older woman asked, peering into a window that had something rather phallic painted on it. Melbourne could hear her gentle German accent from his open shop door and windows.

“Absolutely sure, Mama. I couldn't think of anything more exciting to do!” the younger woman was grinning and clutching a key in her small hand. “I'm so excited to start that I wish we could have come yesterday.”

An British accent, Melbourne noted.

The woman's mother was still unsure and hummed unhappily at her daughter and the shop she now owned. “You are related to royalty, 'Drina, you don't need to be working in a travesty like this.”

“Distantly related,” the young woman pointed out, “I _want_ to own and work in this place, regardless of need. Anyway, Mama, how many times have I told you that I want to be called Victoria now?” she asked, putting the key into the lock and turning it. She pushed against it but the door wouldn't budge. Victoria pushed again and when it still didn't move, she huffed and stamped her foot in frustration. “Why won't the bloody thing open?!”

Victoria's mother folded her arms across her chest. “Because it is old. You're a silly girl, 'Drina, wasting your money on a place like this when you can be sitting at home in comfort – not in this dump! It'll take months to make this place look any good!”

However her words fell on her daughter's deaf ears as Victoria took a running start at the door, pushing it open with her shoulder and crashing through onto the shop floor as the door gave way with ease this time, hitting her head against a table. The door swung for a second before following Victoria to the ground as the force finally made it come off its rotten hinges. Victoria's mother screamed and tried to clamber inside to help lift the door but she was blocked by tables and she found the door too heavy. Melbourne, judging the noises to be highly unusual, rushed out from his own shop, his coat tails flying behind him. Victoria was completely hidden by the door, except for her feet which could be seen through a glass pane. Melbourne jumped inside the cafe and kicked the tables and chairs out of the way, lifted the door off of the young girl until her mother could slide her out and stand her up. He dropped the door and helped Victoria's mother sit her on a chair for a moment. Victoria's forehead had a cut where blood was leaking out and sticking in her thick, plush eyebrow. She had gone white from the ordeal. Her mother stood behind her, putting her arms around Victoria's shoulders and kissing the top of her daughter's head with worry.

“Are you okay, Ma'am?” Melbourne asked. “I have a first-aid box next door, if you need it.”

Victoria waved a hand in the air, her eyes closed and heart beating in her ears. “A little dazed and shocked, but otherwise fine. I didn't expect the door to give way like that.”

“No, Ma'am, the previous owners always struggled with that door also.” Melbourne paused and gave a hesitant smile. “Though perhaps not as much as you have.”

Victoria's eyes fluttered open, smiling too. “I suspect not. Thank you for your help Mr...” she paused and held out one dainty hand. “I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name.”

Melbourne shook her hand with a firm grasp, grinning. “William. Though many call me Melbourne. I own the florist next door.”

“Then thank you, Mr Melbourne. I look forward to seeing more of you – especially if you're going to act like my very own Superman, coming to my rescue like that.” Victoria let go of his hand and folded her own hands in her lap, smiling warmly and getting a little colour back in her face.

Melbourne laughed at the idea. “I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't think I got your name,” he realised, holding his hands behind his back and looking down at the girl's sparkling blue eyes.

“Victoria,” she said, simply. “My name is Victoria.” She rose from her chair and clapped her hands together. “And I have plenty to do today – first things first, replacing the door!”

Victoria went back to chattering to her mother excitedly, bouncing around the shop floor as though nothing had happened. Her mother was obviously more wary, trying to slow her down, holding her arm and following her around the room. Melbourne quietly slipped away from the scene, smiling to himself. It had been a long time since he had someone next door to talk to and since business was so slow, a young pretty girl taking ownership was bound to cause a stir, plus it wouldn't hurt him to have someone so astounding, physically and aurally, a few feet away every day. He had only spoken to her briefly but he could already tell that Victoria was someone who was filled with a great passion, something he had lost for his own business quite some time ago. He could tell that she was a force of nature just waiting to make business in the entire street great again, and he could not wait to watch her flourish and grow like one of his own flowers. As he left he could faintly hear her fast voice describing what she wanted to make of the cafe.

A brand new door for the shop was installed that day – gleaming white with a semi circular glass panel about two thirds of the way up where Victoria put up a fresh glossy sign written in red script:

_UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT._  
_GRAND RE-OPENING SOON_.

Victoria's mother, satisfied that Victoria was in perfect health after the attack from the door, got into the back of the silver car and it sped away, leaving Victoria on the curb, a suitcase at her feet, waving into the distance. Melbourne didn't see Victoria again on that first day. She picked up her suitcase and vanished inside her shop.

The next day was unbearably warm. The sky stretched blue and clear over the entire city of London with barely a breeze, which made for an uncomfortable morning as all the hot air got trapped between the buildings and settled low in the air. It was a drastic change from yesterday's mild weather and grey skies. Melbourne ate breakfast at 7am, showered, dressed and opened the shop for 8am, keeping the door wide open and the windows flung open too. He fiddled with his window displays, re-arranging the bouquets, removing the flowers that were wilting and withering, he rolled his crisp white shirt sleeves to his elbows and polished the inside of his windows, enjoying the quiet for once, but he found himself glancing towards the shop next door every so often. He didn't have long to wait for Victoria to emerge on to the street again with the sound of loud pop music behind her. She was back in her dungarees that had the bottoms rolled up to her ankles so they fit properly, white trainers, a sunshine coloured t-shirt and her hair in braids, she had a metal bucket in one hand and a sponge in the other. Victoria was grinning with determination and didn't seem to mind the hot, muggy weather as she began to scrub the graffiti from the windows that were still intact. Melbourne watched her from his own window, smiling fondly, rather taken by the youthful energy that was suddenly taking the end of the street by storm.

“Good morning, Mr Melbourne!” Victoria said, spotting him through the glass. “How was your evening? Did you sleep well?” She rubbed some sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Very well, Miss Victoria. How is your head this morning? It looks much better today.”

“It's only a scratch. Thank you so much again for helping yesterday, Mama and I are extremely grateful for your help.”

“It was nothing,” Melbourne insisted with a shrug. “I was only too happy to help.”

He felt his heart flutter as she smiled at him and went back to washing her windows, singing and wiggling along to her music as she did so. Melbourne watched her as she began to jump, trying to reach nearer the top of the window, making strained noises as she reached and fell back to the ground. Her trainers provided a little springy cushion that helped to propel her a few more millimetres into the air and protected her feet when she fell back to Earth, but it wasn't enough to help the short woman reach the top of the window. She made a determined sound as she jumped up once more. Victoria groaned and threw her sponge into the bucket, folding her arms across her chest in defeat. Melbourne raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused by Victoria's struggle – he thought that the whole thing was actually very sweet.

“Would you like a hand, Miss Victoria?” He asked, stepping out into the street and smiling gently.

Victoria lifted her head and considered it for a moment before nodding. “If you wouldn't mind, Mr Melbourne, that would be extremely helpful.” She unfolded her arms and softened her expression at him, holding the bucket out for him to take. He took it with a smile and scrubbed at the remaining graffiti that Victoria couldn't quite reach. Inside, Victoria dusted the surfaces and swept the floor, making everything look as new as she could. The floorboards were creaky and dull, even after all the dust had been swept away.

Melbourne kept smiling at Victoria from outside the window as he worked; he hadn't smiled like this in a long time. “All done, Miss Victoria, I must say that you've really done this place well so far.”

“Thank you. It was a struggle to get all the gum off yesterday so can't wait for it all to be finished, really. It's going to look beautiful.” Victoria sighed happily, looking at the shop with great pride.

“With a new owner as beautiful as you then I think you might be right.” Melbourne muttered, face red. He undid the top button on his shirt to reveal that the skin of his neck and chest gleamed with sweat.

Victoria blushed lightly at the compliment and laughed, glad that in this weather it could be mistaken for sunburn instead. “Oh! Whilst you're here, could you perhaps help me replace the light-bulbs? Even when I stand on a chair I'm too small,” Victoria laughed and gestured to herself.

“What you lack in stature, you make up for in charm,” Melbourne said, gladly walking into the shop and taking the light-bulbs from the counter.

“I think it might be you who are the charming one, Mr Melbourne,” Victoria grinned, slipping out to the back of the shop.

Melbourne stood on a chair to change the light-bulbs, balancing carefully as it rocked from where its legs were worn and misshapen, humming along to Victoria's music. He had no worries about leaving his shop unattended since he rarely got a customer and, as such, no one ever felt the need to try and rob the store either. He enjoyed feeling useful for once by doing the odd jobs that Victoria asked of him – it certainly beat sitting around the shop waiting for customers that never came and waiting for closing time so he could watch television, read, then go to bed. His boring routine had finally be interrupted. Things had been simpler and more exciting with his wife and son. Victoria felt like a breath of fresh air, especially during a sweltering London summer day. Who knew what kind of life Melbourne would have now he had Victoria next door to talk to? Their introduction had been unexpected and exciting, so what was to come next? Melbourne didn't know, but he was impatiently anticipating all of it. Victoria returned moments later with two glasses of lemonade and plenty of ice, with multicoloured straws sticking out of the top.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” she explained, handing Melbourne a glass as he stepped down from the chair. “I know it's awfully hot today.” Her stomach grumbled, she giggled helplessly and clutched her stomach with her free hand. “Would you like to close early for lunch? It's on me, of course, as a thank you for helping me out.”

“I'd be honoured to,” Melbourne said simply, gently tapping his glass against Victoria's, both of them grinning.

They found a quiet restaurant a few streets away to have lunch. There was a steady hum from the fans on the ceiling, swirling the hot air around the restaurant. They were sat at a table for two by the window and Victoria's feet dangled a few inches off the floor; she couldn't help but gently swing her feet under the table, looking out of the glass, watching the cars and people go by until they were brought over menus by a waiter. Melbourne found that he was captivated by Victoria again – the way she looked and dressed, the way she smiled at everyone, the way she kicked her feet, they way she scrunched up her nose when she was thinking. She was, in the purest and most simple terms, beautiful in every single way. She oozed charm and appeal and Melbourne was gladly taking it all in and letting himself be awestruck by her.

“You're staring again, Mr Melbourne,” Victoria laughed over her menu. “Have I got something on my face?”

Melbourne laughed too, slightly embarrassed. “Not at all. Has it always been your goal in life to own a cafe?” He added quickly, hoping to change the subject.

“Nope! I bought it on a whim.”

“Brave, but hardly the wisest business move,” Melbourne told her, raising an eyebrow.

Victoria waved a hand. “Maybe not, but it looked so sad and run down that I wanted to do something. I don't want to spend all my days sitting around and doing nothing like Mama would have me do. Anyway, who knows what I'll do with it in the future? Perhaps when I have it up and running to its full potential I'll sell it and move on to a new venture?”

“You don't plan to stick around then?” Melbourne tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Victoria shrugged and sighed longingly, looking up at Melbourne. “I don't know. If I have a reason to stick around once the cafe is thriving again, then I might.”

“I hope you find a reason to stay.” The words tumbled from Melbourne's lips clumsily and he caught Victoria's eye with a small smile.

“I'm sure I will,” Victoria said confidently, grinning back at Melbourne and nudging him with her foot under the table.

They talked for a long time over lunch, getting to know each other, telling jokes, talking about everything and anything that came to mind. Victoria told her new-found friend about her German heritage, choosing to omit the royal connections, and about her stifling mother and uncles. She told him that she could play the piano, speak German fluently, she enjoyed reading and she loved her dog, Dash, more than anything, but he couldn't come and live with her in the flat upstairs just yet – not whilst it was in such a terrible state and she was busy trying to redecorate and clean the coffee shop. She briefly mentioned that she never had a father but she would never let herself get too upset over it. Melbourne, in turn, briefly mentioned his ex-wife and they had a mutual, silent understanding not to press the matters so soon into their friendship. Conversation flowed easily between them like a spring river – it was quick and bright and effortless. Melbourne told her about how he grew all the flowers he sold in an allotment not far from the shop, and he promised to bring Victoria a bunch for her living room after she had showed interest in Melbourne's green-fingered hobby.

“Would you like some help in cleaning the flat?” Melbourne asked. “I've nothing else to do. I can keep the shop closed for a day and help. I wouldn't want you to be away from Dash for too long.”

“You'd do that for me?” Victoria asked, genuinely touched by the offer.

Melbourne let out a long breath, smiling at her. “Business isn't exactly booming. It wouldn't make much of a difference.”

“You're already making a difference to me.” Victoria reached over and laid a hand on Melbourne's, squeezing it lightly in thanks. “You're too kind, Mr Melbourne.”

“Call me Melbourne, Miss Victoria.”

Victoria shook her head. “Only if you stop calling me 'Miss Victoria', we both sound so formal, don't we? Plain Victoria is fine. In fact, I think I'm going to call you 'M',” she said decidedly, slipping her hand away. “Do you mind that, M?”

Melbourne laughed, bewildered and delighted by this confident woman and her directness. “If you like it, then I like it too.”

Their walk back to their shops was a quiet one. It was comfortable silence though, where they basked in the heat of the day with stomachs full of tasty food, powered up and re-fuelled for an afternoon of work. Melbourne went back to his shop in a strangely good mood for the first time in a long time. He hadn't felt this wonderful since his wife was still around. In the coffee shop, Victoria polished the floorboards, bought new windows to replace the broken ones and booked an appointment to have them put in. She bought new tables and chairs, new coffee machines and fridge-freezers for the kitchen and began to plan and buy her décor to liven up the dark shop and bring some energy back to it. Melbourne frequented the cafe and flat throughout the coming days to help out where he could – moving furniture, providing company and helping to re-paint the worn, yellow walls in the living area. He laughed when Victoria managed to get blue paint from her hands on her face. She scrunched up her nose trying to see the smudge on the end of it, laughing too.

“Is business still slow for you?” Victoria asked when they took a break. She sat cross legged in the middle of the floor, sipping at her water.

“Regretfully,” Melbourne sighed.

Victoria nodded slowly and set her glass gently beside her. She licked her lips and wrung her hands together before pursing her lips together. “You...know more about running a shop than I do,” she said finally. “Neither this cafe, or your flower shop, has done particularly well, not for a long time. So...I think I have a proposition for you.”

Melbourne shuffled closer, interested. “I'm all ears.”

“You're older and wiser than I am and I think we've become great friends.”

“I agree,” Melbourne said with a smirk, quietly teasing her.

Victoria rolled her eyes fondly. “I think we should knock the wall between our shops down,” she said hastily. “Combine them. A cafe and a florist. A bigger shop, more variety, it's probably quite unusual to have something like this too, so plenty of customers and visitors from a novelty point of view, at the very least.”

He took a deep breath. “A very risky move,” Melbourne said to her, hesitating and mentally calculating the pros and cons. He liked the idea of the two of them running a joint business, the two of them working closely together and sharing the workload. It was true that the novelty could work in their favour. But what if Victoria decided to leave after all? What if the novelty factor didn't pan out quite as well as they had hoped and they both went under after spending so much money trying to combine their businesses? There were so many _what ifs_ to consider...

“Risky, yes,” Victoria agreed, looking Melbourne in the eye. “But you have far more knowledge than I and I could do with working along side someone who can guide me in business. I really do think that we could make this work, gradually, in time. Build up something great and original.”

Melbourne sighed heavily and began laughing, totally enamoured by this brilliantly imaginative and brave woman once again. “Okay! Let's do it,” he laughed at himself, hardly able to believe that he was agreeing with her on this.

Victoria squeaked with delight and shook Melbourne's hand to seal the deal.

“I think this is going to be the start of something very beautiful, M.”


	2. Superman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria is left upset after various incidents and Melbourne is always happy to help and listen.

Victoria was sat cross-legged on the sofa, her hair thrown back into a ponytail with a pencil behind one ear and a used paintbrush behind the other. Her fingertips were stiff from where the paint had dried and cracked, the little paint particles dusting and flaking off into her lap. Her paint water glass was placed on a coaster on her stained coffee table next to a mug of cold tea. All along the living room wall different sized canvases were leaning to dry: paintings of coffee cups, different kinds of flowers, birds, grassy landscapes, and the odd abstract piece where Victoria wasn't sure what to paint at all and let her paintbrush go wild over the canvas instead. Victoria stared up at her mother who looked around at the second-hand furniture with a hand against her chest – hoping that all the furniture would suddenly become new if she glared at it hard enough.

“Oh, 'Drina, what kind of home is this for a young lady of your standing?” she said almost pained and perched herself warily on the edge of the sofa, trying to ignore the hole in the arm of it.

“A lovely one, Mama. It might not be the most luxurious of homes, but it's mine. That's worth far more than any house with velvet sofas and flat-screen televisions.”

Mama stood and gingerly fingered through her daughter's paintings, trying to ignore Victoria's comments. “These are beautiful, 'Drina. You always had such talent for the arts.”

Victoria took a few moments to let her mother's rare compliment sink in before bounding up from her seat, her bare feet clean despite the painted mess of the rest of the living room. Her blue denim jeans were beginning to roll down past her ankles. “Thank you. We're going to put them up around the shops, or rather, shop.”

“John isn't sure about you merging these businesses together, you know. He didn't even approve of you buying this place to begin with,” Victoria's mother said, taking out a white handheld fan from her handbag, flicking it open to reveal the pink floral pattern and fanning her face with it.

Victoria rolled her eyes and made a face like she could smell something foul. “The opinion of John Conroy matters to me like the opinion of a sheep matters to a lion.”

“I wish you two would get on,” her Mama said bitterly. “You ought to give him a chance, 'Drina, he really is a very respectable man and I could do a lot worse.”

“I'd rather take my chances with the lion,” Victoria told her bluntly, taking her paint water and mug of tea to the kitchen. “And yes, maybe you could do worse, but you could also do better.”

Her mother followed her with heavy footsteps, frowning. “He's a good man, 'Drina! We're planning a dinner party in a few weeks – we're hoping your uncles and cousins will come too. We'd like it to be quite the family affair so we would like you to be there.”

“A family affair? Mama, I will never consider Conroy to be a member of my family. You could marry him and I'd still never look at him like a family member. He's a snake.”

“You're being rude, 'Drina! What has John ever done to you?”

“He's only out for himself, Mama. He doesn't care much for others,” Victoria waves a hand dismissively and gets herself a fresh glass of water. “I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him.”

Victoria's mother huffed, beginning to become red in the face. “You don't know anything about him! God forbid you ever think about my happiness for once.”

“I'll think about yours when you think about mine,” Victoria snapped, staring her mother in eye, unblinking and unwavering.

Ever since John Conroy walked into their lives, things had been different. Victoria felt her mother had become harsher, more blunt with her, they argued a lot more. She was not the woman she used to be. Conroy seemed to be hanging over her mother like a dark cloud over her head, but she couldn't see it – she would never look up, no matter how much Victoria urged her to. Mama Victoria was stubborn and she would not take the advice and warnings of her young daughter, even though she could see and sense Conroy's controlling and manipulative behaviour. Conroy was sharp-tongued to Victoria and Victoria would not let him get away with his guileful and hateful behaviour like her mother would, so of course this caused friction between the trio, often with Victoria or Conroy leaving the room irritated with one another, and with Mama ultimately taking Conroy's side no matter what.

“You are insufferable, 'Drina. I fully expect you to be at dinner and on your best behaviour for your uncles and cousins. I will come by again next week with a time and place,” she checks her phone. “I must go – John and I have a lunch date.” Mama kissed Victoria's cheek and swiftly but carefully made her way out of the flat. Victoria watched her mother leave from the window and spotted John Conroy across the street. He had his hands firmly thrust in pockets and she could see his cold, grey stare even from this distance. He put an arm around Mama Victoria and they slowly walked around the corner, not looking back at the flat.

Victoria let her anger stew and boil inside of her tiny frame until she felt as though she might burst, and fled from her flat, still barefoot. She rushed down the stairs and out of her shop, stepping out into the street for a second before flying in to the florists next door with her fists clenched so tightly that the skin on her knuckles stretched and turned white. Melbourne looked up from where he was sat behind the till to put together a new bouquet, giving her a small smile and putting down his flowers when he realised something was wrong. He didn't even have time to ask her what it was.

“My mother has the nerve to tell me that I must try to get along with John-bloody-Conroy when he is making it his mission to rattle me in every possible way! He manipulates her and he will always get away with it!” Victoria paced across the room with her arms waving around wildly as she talked. “She wants me to sit there quietly and have dinner with him and my family and pretend like nothing is wrong! I refuse to sit there and act like I like him!”

Melbourne raised his eyebrows. “John Conroy?”

“Mama's so-called 'boyfriend.' He only stays around because she has money and he's in thousands and thousands of pounds of crippling debt, not because he actually loves her!” She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and stopped pacing. “I'm sorry – I shouldn't have said that. You won't tell anyone, will you, M?”

Melbourne shook his head. “You have my word.”

“I can always trust you, M,” Victoria told him, softening her face and relaxing her shoulders. “I'm sorry for bursting in on you like that.”

“I'm only creating new bouquets – it's not like I was with a customer. Why don't you grab a chair and help me? If we're merging our shops then you might as well learn a thing or two about being a florist.”

Victoria looked at a nearby chair but decided to pull herself up on top of the counter instead, reaching over to grab a few of the flowers that had been freshly picked from Melbourne's allotment that morning, as well as a few that he ordered in. He smiled fondly and began to talk Victoria through what to do next with them: trimming the stems, getting rid of leaves that were crushed and withered or had become lunch for caterpillars and other bugs, choosing what kind of colours and large leafy accents should be there in the bouquet too. Victoria watched Melbourne's dry hands work quickly, trying to copy him, but she was still lagging behind when he wrapped them up in cellophane and purple tissue paper, tying the bottom together with a white ribbon. She frowned at herself as she pricked her fingers on a few rose thorns.

“How do thorns not bother you?” she asked.

“Years of practice and work. My hands have hardened to thorns and nettles...and hot temperatures, actually.” He watched Victoria as she crumpled the cellophane and tissue paper trying to wrap her bouquet. She made a small noise of annoyance and unwrapped them again. “Stand up,” Melbourne told her. “Let me help.”

Victoria slipped off of the counter and stood in front of it, having better access to all the wrapping. Melbourne stood closely behind her and guided her hands to where they needed to be over the wrapping and helped her to carefully roll her flowers into a neat little bunch, Melbourne's hands were still touching Victoria's own soft, paint covered hands when they finished. They hesitated together for a moment before Melbourne quietly cleared his throat and stepped away, grabbing her some ribbon. She managed to make a tight, neat bow around her bouquet and grinned proudly, holding them up in the air. “I did it!”

Melbourne laughed. “You did. Well done, Miss Victoria.” He watched her look at the flowers with a smile plastered across her face. She lifted the bunch so she could smell them and Melbourne couldn't stop his heart from beating hard like a drum. “How about you keep those ones?”

Victoria's head shot up. “Really?”

“Really. I have plenty and I think it's only right that you keep your first bouquet.”

“Thank you, M. That's so kind of you...what's this flower called?” She asked, pointing to a purple one with lots of flowers on one stem.

“That's a freesia,” he said. “These are very popular in wedding bouquets – especially the white ones because they mean innocence and purity, more generally though, they're used as a symbol of trust.”

Victoria grinned at him, impressed. “How do you learn all this?”

“It's a hobby,” Melbourne told her easily.

“What about this one?” Victoria asked, pointing to another white flower in the shop with unusually shaped petals. She kept her bouquet tucked gently in the crook of her arm.

“That's an orchid. They've got lots of different meanings, especially depending on the colour they are.”

Victoria touched them gently, feeling how thin and soft the petals were and enjoying how they tickled her skin. “I love these white ones. They look so delicate.”

“Take some,” Melbourne urged. “They'll be beautiful in your bouquet.”

“You're so kind to me, M,” Victoria sighed happily, gently picking out a few of the orchids. “The kindest man I've ever met.”

“I do my best, Miss Victoria.” Melbourne could feel his cheeks begin to grow warm.

“You've cheered me up so much. Thank you,” she smiled and quickly leaned up to kiss cheek, lingering there for a moment, before slipping away and running back to her flat.

Melbourne stood, dumb-founded, touching his cheek with an absent smile. His brain was trying to work out what going on but it couldn't quite believe what had happened. Victoria had kissed him. She had run away immediately after, yes, but she had kissed him. It was purely a friendly gesture, yes, but she had kissed him. He had to sit back down, realising he had been holding his breath since she had kissed him. Melbourne's breath returned to him all at once and found himself coughing as it hit him in the chest like he had been punched by someone much bigger than himself. He was surprised by just how quickly the young Victoria was weaving her way into his affections and how she made him feel, but he couldn't dwell on it for long as a gentleman with a handful of leaflets came marching through the door.

“Mr Melbourne, I assume?” he said. He was an ageing man with a pot belly and round head with hair that was thinning from the front. His face was pink and flabby which highlighted his blonde, whiskered moustache that seemed to wriggle whenever he spoke.

“That's right. How can I be of assistance?”

“Myself and a few others in the area heard about your proposed building work and we're not happy about it.”

Melbourne licked his bottom lip and gave an apologetic shrug. “I'm very sorry, Sir, but in the interest of our businesses, this is the best way.”

“We don't need more building work going on here, Mister! We have enough noise and dust pollution as it is in London and my poor wife is allergic to dust!” He said, outraged, slamming the poorly made protest leaflets on the desk. “Who do you expect will be paying for this building work, Mr Melbourne? Me and every other damn tax-payer in the country? No, Sir, not on my watch! These buildings are so old I wouldn't be surprised if they came tumbling down! What will happen then?”

Melbourne raised his eyebrows in shock. “I'm sorry, Sir, but we've had architects and structural engineers out to take a look and they think it's going to be perfectly safe. Miss Victoria from next door will be paying for the work and it's due to take no longer than a fortnight. We've done everything we need to by the book and the work is definitely going ahead, despite any protest you or any one else makes.”

“Even so! These shops have stood here as they are for years and years. We don't want things to change,” the angry man said, shuffling together his leaflets, leaving just one on the table for Melbourne to keep. “The neighbours here like things the way they are and we don't want the noise pollution.”

Melbourne got to his feet, smoothing out his shirt. “When was the last time you visited either one of these businesses, Sir? I've been here, working and living within these walls for almost fifteen years and not once have I seen you step foot here, and I doubt you've been next door for coffee more than once when it was open. Perhaps if you were actually a customer, I'd be more inclined to listen to your opinion. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have work to be getting on with.” He showed the protester to the door.

“You haven't seen the last of me, Mr Melbourne,” the man warned. “I will be speaking to that little girl as well, you know. I'll get through to her if not you.”

“You've clearly never met Miss Victoria,” Melbourne said, amused. “If you think you're struggling with me, wait until you meet her. No one gets through Victoria when she's made her mind up on something.”

“The mind of a young girl is an easy thing to persuade, Mr Melbourne, just you wait.” He waved his sausage sized finger in Melbourne's face and made his way next door, rapping quickly on the door. He was let in moments later. Melbourne checked his watch and kept staring at it until the man emerged again, grumbling unhappily. Thirty seconds. It took exactly thirty seconds for Victoria to send him away. “Bad mannered little Madam,” Melbourne heard the man say as he stomped down the street.

Victoria put her head around Melbourne's shop door, grinning, amused and shocked. “How ridiculous! I can hardly see how our building work will impact on him as badly as he thinks it will.”

“Many people are averse to change, Miss Victoria,” Melbourne said with a sigh, though he was still smiling.

“Would you mind coming to my aid again, M? I need some help hanging a few paintings across the back wall.” She had removed her pencil and paintbrush from her ears and tucked them underneath her hairband instead.

Melbourne left to help Victoria more than willingly. He knocked in a few nails along the wall where she instructed and waited for her to bring him the canvases that were dry enough to hang. It took him a few attempts to get them to hang straight but Victoria was visibly thrilled when he managed it. The counter had been cleaned and polished with a new till installed and the frames for the menus were up on the walls and ready to be filled. Melbourne looked around with a smile, hands on his hips.

“I think I might have to get you to re-decorate my shop whilst you're at it,” he teased.

“Oh, don't worry, I was planning to,” Victoria told him in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Of course you were,” Melbourne said fondly. “These paintings are lovely, Miss Victoria. They really brighten the room.”

“Thank you. Perhaps we can hang the rest along the back wall of your shop? It'll marry the two together quite nicely when the wall gets knocked down.”

“That would look very smart,” Melbourne agreed. “Good idea.”

Victoria started walking to the back of the room through the cafe kitchen, beckoning for Melbourne to follow. There was an open door leading outside to a small courtyard that wasn't quite a garden with a number of bins piled up, filled with rubbish and black bags that were overflowing on to the ground. The smells of rotting food were unmistakable and it made Melbourne's eyes water. The concrete ground itself was becoming green with moss and was somewhat slippery if you weren't wearing the right kind of shoes. In the past this might have been a cosy garden for a single or two-person household – simple and efficient, somewhere to come and when it was hot and sunny.

“I haven't had the time to put my attention here yet,” Victoria explained, “but I would love to clean this all up and use it as an outdoor seating space.”

Melbourne looked around, considering it with a slow nod. “It's really quite small...”

“I'm thinking two or three tables at most. It will extend our seating capacity and give customers a little bit of fresh air.” Victoria put her hands together, almost as though she were praying. “What do you think?”

“Honestly?”

“Absolutely, M, I value your opinion as my business partner and as my friend.”

Melbourne hesitated and said gently, “I don't think it's a good idea.”

Victoria frowned, her body slumping. “Why not?”

“Because it's simply too small. By the time you've put in the tables and chairs, outdoor lightning, any decorations and the like, it's going to be very difficult for customers and staff to move around one another. It wouldn't be very comfortable. Not only that but there isn't exactly a brilliant view for any customers to sit and look at. It's, frankly, depressing. Then where would you put all the bins once you do the renovations out here?”

“What do you suggest we do with it?” Victoria asked, folding her arms and trying not to be too upset that her idea was knocked down.

“We could always put a couple of flower pots and hanging baskets out here? Grow simpler flowers for small bouquets, for decorations in the cafe, that kind of thing. We can also keep the bins out here too that way,” Melbourne points out.

Victoria relaxed the more she thought about it and eventually agreed. “We can put extra chairs and tables in your half of the shop then.”

“That sounds like a compromise I can agree with,” Melbourne smiled and held out his hand for her to shake. “I think we've got another deal, Miss Victoria.”

They parted ways for lunch: Victoria choosing to go out to a restaurant with her friend Flora for a good catch-up and a gossip, finally putting on her trainers but still leaving her pencil and paintbrush in her hair. Flora met her at the shop door, dressed far more smartly than Victoria, though this could be forgiven since Flora was not in the process of renovating a cafe and flat. Victoria talked endlessly about the cafe and the renovations, discussing her ideas for the business and telling Flora all about Melbourne's kind and helpful nature. Flora listened quietly, sipping her coffee and mentally counting how many times Victoria mentioned Melbourne's name. Melbourne himself, however, stayed in his flat with a microwave meal on his flat-cushioned sofa, trying to figure out how he felt about Victoria and why she made his heart beat so fast. _Of course_ , he thought, _it could be that she's the most exciting person who's been here for five years instead of anything else_. She was young and she was quickly infecting their two buildings with her energy, so much so that it was beginning to seep into Melbourne too, making him feel more alive than he had for years. She was something new for Melbourne so it was only natural he would gravitate towards her.

Flora made her way back to the shop with Victoria after lunch, the pair still chatting away and almost missed Melbourne standing outside, re-painting the chipped, grimy wall.

“M!” Victoria cried, holding out her arms. “You must meet my friend.”

Flora waited for Melbourne to put his brush down and shake her hand. “Mr Melbourne, I'm Flora Hastings. I've heard so much about you this afternoon.”

“All good I hope,” Melbourne said, glancing over to Victoria.

“Nothing but glowing compliments, I assure you,” Flora told him with a knowing grin, looking between Victoria and Melbourne, who were also looking at one another rather than at Flora herself. “Anyway, I must go. It was very nice to meet you, Mr Melbourne.” Flora kissed Victoria's cheek before making her way back home.

Victoria sighed happily. “Isn't Flora just the loveliest? I'm going to go out the back and do some work in our little garden. Come and get me if you need me.” She flounced away into the shop, leaving Melbourne to finish the upkeep on his own shop.

Melbourne went back to work, getting lost in his thoughts and wishing he had some music to listen to too, just like Victoria had when she was cleaning her windows. However, as Melbourne was quickly beginning to learn, living next to Victoria was not going to be peaceful. Victoria let out a blood-curdling scream which made Melbourne's heart leap into his throat, he jumped almost a foot in the air, dropping his paintbrush on the ground and running through the shop and out the back to find her. She kept screaming as he ran and a thousand different scenarios went through his head. Perhaps she had broken a leg? Perhaps a burglar had got in over the wall? What if she was being kidnapped? Did she find a dead body in one of the bins? When he got to her, Victoria was crammed up against the wall, her eyes brimming with tears and pointing behind the bins, her hand visibly shaking. She was as white as a sheet and looked as though she had seen a ghost. Melbourne quickly went over to the bins and pulled one out from the wall and watched as a couple of rats scurried out across the concrete, which only made Victoria begin to scream again. He stepped away and helped Victoria back inside the shop and up the stairs to her flat, not complaining when she gripped him tight, too afraid to let go. He made her a cup of tea and sat with her on the sofa until her face regained some colour and she had stopped shaking.

“Thank you, M,” Victoria said quietly, a little embarrassed. “You must think I'm so silly.”

“The thought hadn't even crossed my mind,” Melbourne assured her. “I was worried something had happened to you.”

“I died of fright, that's what happened to me,” Victoria said miserably, hiding her face in her hands.

Melbourne hesitantly put an arm around her to comfort her. “I'll go out and sort out the bins and the rats and you can paint the outside of the shop. Does that sound okay?”

Victoria nodded and lifted her head, smiling a little, already feeling better. She took her tea and sipped at it. “Sugary.”

“Sugar does the world of good for shock,” Melbourne told her, pulling his arm away and shifting away from her. “Is that all right?”

“It's great, thanks.” Victoria tapped her fingernails against the mug, the repetitive motion calming her down even further. “Look at you, M, still proving to be my Superman. Coming to my aid when I'm injured or afraid, listening to me when I'm angry, being honest with me about my ideas, teaching me new skills, making sure I'm okay and helping me however you can...I'm so lucky to have met you.”

Melbourne gave her a self-conscious smile. “Likewise, Miss Victoria. I'd better go and deal with those rats – come down when you feel ready.”

Victoria thanked him again and settled more comfortably on the sofa to finish her tea, staring at the bouquet of flowers that Melbourne had let her keep that morning, which she had placed in a vase on top of the fireplace. It was such a lovely gesture. Everything Melbourne did for Victoria seemed to be out of the pure kindness of his heart and nothing else. She could not imagine him doing a kind act for some ulterior motive like she could imagine John Conroy doing. Melbourne was a good man and one that Victoria felt she could trust totally with anything. Not only was he all of that, but he genuinely cared about her too - not like her mother, not like Conroy, not like her uncles, not like any other man she had ever met. No one's kindness made her heart flutter quite like Melbourne's did. It was a nice change and one that Victoria didn't mind getting used to. If she did have to go to this dinner with her family and Conroy, then she thought she would like to bring Melbourne along too. He would be the only person to make that dinner bearable.

Melbourne left the flat feeling much better, if a little shaky himself. He was relieved that Victoria was okay and that it wasn't a more serious problem, but he feared that her frightened screams would not leave his mind for a long time. It didn't take too long for Melbourne to clean up the rubbish, shoo away the rats, and tidy the outside area so they had room to start growing things, and even pulled out the weeds that were growing in the cracks of the concrete. After washing his hands, he went back to the front of the shop with another paintbrush. Victoria was quietly painting the wall, not jumping up like she usually did, not dancing or wiggling, not anything except diligently painting the wall. Melbourne silently joined her, painting over the parts that she couldn't reach. Victoria looked up at him and began to smile, grateful for his existence. Melbourne smiled back down at her, totally content with being able to make her happy in even the smallest of ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I start my last year at university this week so future chapters might be shorter or delayed! I'm sorry in advance for this :(


	3. Secrets and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria tells a lie to her mother and must find a way to cover her tracks.

The builders walked through the small crowd of protesters with ease like they weren't even there at all. Some of the crowd didn't really seem to know why there were there either, having wandered past and joined the few just to see what was happening, hoping there were freebies from the florists or cafe, wondering if there had been an accident, or to see if it was a protest they wanted to join. Some were just looking for trouble. The leaflets from the man with the sausage fingers and blonde moustache had been laminated and tied to lamp-posts, though many of them had been defaced or had become a toilet for birds. Melbourne and Victoria ushered the builders in and shut the door quickly, as a few of the protesters tried to follow them inside to stop the work from starting, and they broke into uproar when the door was closed on them. Victoria opened the window and began to tell them that they needed to leave, promising that once all the renovations had been done they could all have a free coffee and piece of cake as a goodwill gesture, but this did not assuage the ageing protesters, but the younger members of the group were happy with this deal and walked away, leaving only the older members of the community. Luckily the late morning heat became too much for them and they all trailed off one by one, promising that they would be back again tomorrow.

“This isn't over,” the man with the whiskered moustache warned through the window. “You won't win this one!”

Victoria stuck her head out of the window, shouting over the noise of the building work that had just begun. “I think we already have, Sir! I'm awfully sorry.”

He left grumbling again, not yet wanting to admit defeat.

Whilst the building work was taking place, Victoria had made arrangements to stay with Flora since the noise and the dust would disturb her planning for the cafe and florist decor and the brand new promotional advertising. She went upstairs to the flat to finish packing her suitcase, whistling to herself as she did. Melbourne stayed with the builders in the meantime, making cups of tea for them and providing them with biscuits and snacks. Unlike Victoria, he had nowhere else to go for those two weeks but he didn't all mind the noise and the mess, plus someone needed to stay and oversee the work as it was going on, so he was more than happy to stay.

Victoria began to drag and haul her suitcase down the stairs, making little grunting noises as she did and taking a break in the middle of the stairs to give her little arms a rest. Melbourne looked over and smiled at her from his seat by the door, a foot away from the stairs leading to the flat, trying not to laugh. He took her suitcase and helped her down the stairs by her hand, putting the suitcase by the door for her.

“Thank you, M. You continue to be the best,” Victoria told him, shouting over the noise from the builders. “Are you sure you're going to be alright here on your own?”

“I've been here on my own for the past five years, so I'm sure another two weeks won't matter,” he assured her, though his words did not assure himself. There was still a pang of sadness in his chest at the idea of Victoria being further away from him than next door, even though he'd had weeks to prepare himself for it. He would miss her more than he thought he would.

“I'll be back almost every day,” Victoria said, putting a hand on Melbourne's arm. “It'll be like I'm still upstairs.”

“I'm sure,” Melbourne laughed. “Don't rush back. Enjoy some time off and be with your friends.”

“You're also my friend, M. I still want to spend time with you.” Victoria stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek as a blue car pulled up outside. “I'll see you tomorrow.” She picked up her suitcase and went out to the car. She was gone in a matter a moments and everything seemed quiet, even with the noise of the builders.

Flora's house could not have been more different from Victoria's flat. It was perhaps a little large for only one woman, but it was heavily decorated with plush red carpets and heavy matching curtains. She kept plenty of her family's china vases and ornaments on the fireplace, one of which was of an Edwardian girl with blonde curly hair, a duck egg blue dress and a little white parasol. Victoria thought the little Edwardian girl looked a lot like Flora herself. There were a number of portrait paintings on the walls through the corridors and the living room; they were paintings of Flora as well as her mother and father, her four siblings, and her grandparents. The painting of her paternal grandfather unnerved Flora – she often spoke of how she believed the eyes followed her around the room, and how it would often slip and hang to one side of the hook, no matter how many times Flora put it straight again, but she swore blind that the hook was in straight. She would always blame it on the ghost of her grandfather. With all these items in the house and possibility of a ghost, it was hard to feel like the house was too large for just one girl.

Flora always had a second bedroom made up for visitors and this was where she helped Victoria bring up her suitcase. The second bedroom was decorated in a pale, spring green colour with lightly coloured solid wood furniture. More of Flora's china covered the chest of drawers and there were heart shaped coasters on the bedside tables, as well as vases of faux flowers – Victoria beamed when she realised that should could identify almost all of the flowers. The bed was four-poster with a total of six soft pillows by the headboard, it had a duvet so fluffy that it felt like a marshmallow and it was all on top of a medium-hard mattress. Victoria couldn't resist flopping on the bed, wriggling around in the duvet as Flora laughed at the door.

“You've settled in well already! I think you'll be very happy in here,” Flora told her, amused.

“I think you might be right,” Victoria sighed happily, sitting up. “Thank you, Flora, this is most comfortable.”

“Your mother phoned this morning. She wants the three of us to have tea and she wants to speak to you about something.”

Victoria frowned. “Why didn't she tell me that herself?”

“I wouldn't know,” Flora said apologetically. “But we can have tea this afternoon and go for a stroll around St James' Park and find out?”

Victoria nodded. “That sounds lovely.”

Flora answered the door to Mama Victoria at two in the afternoon on the dot. Flora already had a pot of tea and some teacups on her glass coffee table in the living room, as well as a three tiered cake stand that was filled with finger sandwiches and mini cakes that Flora had made and baked that morning. They kissed one another's cheeks at the door, chattering excitedly together as they made their way inside. Victoria slowly walked back down the stairs after getting changed from her jeans and t-shirt into a pink lace dress that sat below her knees (though, it was supposed to sit on the knee, according to the model she had originally seen it on) and had braided her hair before wrapping it round in a bun. She wore low heels and wobbled on them a little since she was so used to wearing trainers or being barefoot now, but despite her mild discomfort, greeted her mother with a smile.

Her Mama put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, 'Drina, you look so beautiful. If you dressed like that next week then you might give poor Albert a heart attack.”

“Albert?”

“You remember your dear cousin Albert, don't you?” Mama asked as they all sat on the cream sofa. “Your Uncle Ernest's younger boy.”

“What does cousin Albert have to do with anything?” Victoria asked, then quietly thanked Flora for the tea as she poured it. Victoria added three sugar cubes and gently stirred them in her tea, delicately tapping the spoon against the rim of the china after it had dissolved.

“He's very handsome and very single,” Mama began, taking a cucumber sandwich. “He plays the piano very well, just like you, he's very serious, unlike you...you could be a good match,” she says easily. "I wanted to discuss with you the idea of going on a date with him.”

“I've seen a recent photograph,” Flora mentions. “He's aged very well.”

Victoria frowned at them both. “I don't wish to date my cousin. I remember him being very rude and he never smiled either. Why should I ever wish to date somebody like that?”

“He's not like that any more, 'Drina. Albert is a fine young gentleman and your uncle Ernest thinks the two of you would make a handsome couple. I have to agree and so does John. Actually, it was John who suggested it to begin with. If all goes well then you could settle down with Albert and forget all about this coffee shop nonsense.”

Flora quietly poured her own tea, carefully eyeing Victoria, knowing full well that she would be dead against the idea and was silently eager to see what she would do next. Flora, perched next to Mama, placed a napkin from her pocket in her lap to catch crumbs.

“I will not be dating my cousin, Mama! No matter what you, uncle Ernest, John Conroy, or anyone else thinks.” Victoria looked panicked and scandalised by the proposal. She knew that her mother would not give up this idea easily. Mama never gave up when she wanted Victoria to do something and it took months for Victoria to convince Mama to let her buy the coffee shop. Victoria became so panicked and concerned that she couldn't stop the lie from slipping out of her mouth. “Besides, I don't need you playing matchmaker for me because I'm already seeing someone.”

Flora almost choked on her tea, her eyes wide with surprise and Mama looked at Victoria, horrified and put down her teacup in fear she might break it since her hands were shaking so much.

“Who are you seeing, 'Drina?! Why have I not heard about this?!” Mama said, beginning to break into hysteria.

“I didn't say anything because I knew you wouldn't approve and you would try to intervene...it's my life, Mama, it's about time you let me do as I please without hovering over my shoulder! I'm not a child any more!” Victoria exclaimed, putting down her own teacup too.

Flora settled back in the sofa, getting more comfortable to watch them. She sipped at her tea and let her dark green eyes dart between the mother and daughter, her heart beating with anticipation on where this might go next. She slowly began to eat a sandwich.

“Who is he, 'Drina?!” Mama asked.

Victoria hesitated, swallowing nervously and wringing her hands together in her lap, her brain working at a thousand miles per hour as he tried to figure out an appropriate answer to her mother's question. “M,” she said finally. “Melbourne. My dear William.” There was a strange taste in her mouth as she continued the lie and a heavy feeling in her chest. It was almost as though she wanted the lie to be true.

Flora almost choked again and her Mama went pale.

“You're dating Mr Melbourne?” Mama asked, voice shaking as much as her hands.

“Yes and we're very happy,” Victoria said, trying not to panic and hoping her mother wouldn't see through the falsity.

“How long have you been seeing one another?” Mama asked, breathing slowly and trying to settle her shaky hands.

“Not very long at all,” Victoria decides, “which is another reason why I hadn't told you yet.”

Mama swallowed her tea quickly, ignoring how it scalded her throat. “You're a very silly girl, 'Drina. I have to go, but I look forward to seeing you and Mr Melbourne next week for dinner. I trust that won't be a problem if you are seeing one another?” She got up from her seat, smoothing out the skirt of her dress and rolling her shoulders, trying to get the tension out of them.

“But you've only just arrived,” Flora protested, getting up as well. “What about our walk?”

“I'm afraid you'll have to go on your own. I have a few things to discuss with John and my dear brothers. Take care, Flora, darling, we'll have afternoon tea somewhere soon.” Mama kissed Flora's cheek and left without saying another word to Victoria.

Victoria relaxed completely after her mother left and she slumped on the sofa, her breath leaving her quickly as she exhaled. She put her head in her hands, making an embarrassed noise. Flora got up to put away the tea items, somewhat amused by the situation.

“I think it's time we went for that walk, Victoria. Don't you think? We've lots to discuss, I'm sure,” Flora said, hiding her laughter behind her hand.

The sun shone low over St James' Park that afternoon with a light breeze that almost wasn't there at all. It was a hazy afternoon and the heat waves were clearly visible in front of you if you crossed your eyes enough as August made way for September. There were families sat around enjoying the last of the summer with picnics, some played football and frisbee, other people were lying in the grass trying to soak up the sun they had left, topping up their holiday tans, as others played with water guns. Children ran around freely, laughing, with no qualms about running in front of other people's paths. The sun glinted off of the lake making it look as though it were made of thousands and thousands of tiny diamonds, though the pelicans didn't mind. Flora and Victoria walked through the park with their arms linked together, which Victoria felt grateful for as the extra support from Flora meant she could steady herself on her heels as she practised walking in them.

“You aren't really dating Mr Melbourne, are you?” Flora asked, smiling, not even attempting to hide the cheer in her voice.

“No, I'm not, and I'm not quite sure how I'm going to get out of this one either,” Victoria sighed, annoyed at herself and squeezed Flora's arm.

“Mr Melbourne seems like a reasonable man,” Flora pointed out, “you could simply explain to him what is going on and ask him to join in on the pretence?”

Victoria nodded but she suddenly became filled with dread. “But what if this is beyond his reason? It is a large lie to go along with and he has enough to worry about with the shop and the builders...I wanted him to come to dinner anyway, but a lie like this might be a step too far for him.”

Flora hesitated before she spoke as they began to cross the blue bridge over the lake. “You won't know until you ask him,” she told Victoria delicately. “He might surprise you.”

“What if I tell Mama and my uncles that we broke up? It wasn't working because of our professional relationship. That would work, right?” Victoria asked, the panic rising in her again (and her stature meant it didn't exactly have far to rise.) “Please tell me that would work!”

“They would still want you to start dating Albert since you'd be single once again,” Flora sighed. “Your mother speaks very warmly about Albert, Victoria. He seems like a very fine young man and he really is quite easy on the eye.” Flora gently nudged Victoria with her hip, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “He might not be as bad as you seem to think he is.”

Victoria laughed despite herself. “Even so, I could never date my cousin. He's my cousin!”

“Then you must discuss your problem with Mr Melbourne. I take it, since you were going to ask him to dinner anyway, he knows who your uncle really is?” Flora paused on top of the blue bridge to look out over the water, squinting as it sparkled back at her.

Victoria looked at her with wide eyes, realising that she had forgotten about that and propped her elbows up on the rail of the bridge, watching the pelicans as they paddled across the lake. “He doesn't. I haven't said a word. Oh, Flora, what am I to do? I have been very foolish.”

“Yes,” Flora agreed, gently rubbing Victoria's back between her shoulder blades, hoping this would comfort her. “But he will find out when you go to dinner anyway...I think you should tell him yourself. He'd value it a lot more if he heard it from you. You don't want him to find out who he is when he turns up for dinner. It could make for an awkward first meeting.”

“I don't want M to treat me, or the rest of my family, differently, Flora, he's the best man I've ever met. What if he hates me for hiding the truth?”

“Oh, I'd hardly think he'd hate you, Victoria. You both seem extremely fond of one another.”

“We are,” Victoria agrees, sighing over the water. “Very much so.”

Flora smiled, her voice soft. “Then I think you have nothing to worry about. You've always said that your uncle's position barely changes anything about you – I can't see why you would be worried about that now. Does Mr Melbourne know your real name?”

“Victoria is my real name!” she protested, which elicited a laugh from Flora. “He might have heard Mama call me 'Drina the first day we met, but he's probably forgotten about that by now if he did hear her.”

Flora despaired at her friend but still looked at her fondly. “Go to him and explain everything before he finds out himself. If you care for him and he cares for you, the lie you've told today and the truth you've withheld so far will only hurt for a moment, if it even hurts at all. The longer you leave it, the worse it will get.”

Victoria stepped away from the bridge, painting on a smile and holding herself up, almost as though she were trying to make herself look taller. “You're right. I'll go now and be back before it gets dark,” she promised, running back over the bridge the way they came and across the grass. “Don't wait up!” she called back.

Flora rolled her eyes, grinning, and made her way through the rest of the park.

Victoria stopped running after a few hundred meters and took off her pink patent shoes so she didn't get blisters and didn't trip, running barefoot for as long as she could before she became tired. Her perfectly placed hair was beginning to unravel down her shoulders and her mind raced almost as fast as her legs did, trying to work out how to tell Melbourne everything she needed to. Everything she wanted to. Her heart beat loud in her chest with anticipation and nerves for Melbourne's reaction (and because of all the running.) She slipped her shoes back on when she got into a taxi back to the shop. When she arrived she made her way back inside the building, running up the stairs and saying hello the builders on her way, knocking furiously on Melbourne's flat door. She rushed in when he opened it, barely stopping to look at him.

Melbourne's flat was a mess. There were cups and plates stacked in the living room and papers upon papers piled messily across the desk in the corner. There were cushions on the floor and it clearly hadn't been dusted or polished in weeks. Melbourne thrust his hands into his pockets, looking around sheepishly at the mess.

“I wasn't expecting company,” he explained with a shrug.

“Evidently,” Victoria said, still smiling.

Melbourne paused, licking his bottom lip. “I almost didn't recognise you, Miss Victoria,” he said, taking a hand from his pocket to gesture to her.

Victoria looked down at her dress and shoes, suddenly feeling very self conscious and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You don't like it? It's probably a bit much, but I was having tea with Flora and Mama...”

Melbourne shook his head, feeling his heart get caught in his throat once again, becoming tired with how she was able to make this happen to him on a regular basis. He had never seen Victoria look so elegant and beautiful, and he felt charmed by how the blush in her cheek matched the blush of her dress. “On the contrary,” he began, “I think you look...astonishing. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, surprised and a little taken back by the compliment and finally lifted her head once the fluttering feeling in her stomach stopped. “I've come here because I've something I need to tell you and something I need to discuss with you.”

They found some space on the sofa to sit, knocking off newspapers and pens. Melbourne was suddenly becoming nervous and could feel his palms begin to sweat, though he kept smiling as if nothing was wrong, but he was still a little winded from how pretty he thought Victoria looked. “Please go ahead.”

“I haven't been entirely honest with you on something. You remember me telling you that I am to have dinner with Mama and my uncles?” she waited for him to nod before continuing, “well, one of my uncles, my mother's brother, is Prince Leopold of Belgium through marriage.”

Melbourne was struck with surprise like he had been slapped. He was confused as well as shocked and blinked rapidly. “You're the niece of a Prince? You're related to a Prince?”

“Yes, but he's a Prince through marriage! It's barely anything really...” Victoria insisted. “And it's not like it really makes a difference to me and who I am. I'm not in line to be Queen or anything...” she joked, “though Mama would like me to act like I am.” Victoria looked down in her lap, nervous too, waiting for Melbourne to speak.

Melbourne sighed heavily, still trying to process the information. “Do you have a title I need to refer to you by?” he asked, laughing in disbelief and trying to continue Victoria's joke.

Victoria laughed too. “No, thank god. Though my family don't often refer me as Victoria, my middle name, so if you want a title then the best I can do for you is my Christian name. Alexandrina...'Drina. That's who I am to them.”

Melbourne nodded. “Then it's nice to meet you, Alexandrina...” He said the name slowly, still smiling through his shock. The name seemed to come out easy for him.

The butterflies in Victoria's stomach began to flap again when he said her name and her heart beat hard. She crossed her arms over her chest, half convinced that Melbourne would hear it. “I think we should stick with Victoria...” she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “The thing is, M, I wouldn't be telling you any of this if it weren't for something I said to Mama this afternoon, because all of it would usually be rather irrelevant.”

“Is something troubling you?” Melbourne asked, sitting back with a concerned look on his face.

Victoria looked at him, shamefaced. “I've done something extremely silly and I need to ask you to do me an extremely large favour because of it.”

“I'm your friend, I'll do whatever I can,” he assured her in a soft tone.

“Mama and my uncles would like to see me enter into a relationship with my cousin, Albert, of course this is ridiculous...but in order for Mama to stop pressing the issue, I told her I was already seeing someone.”

Melbourne frowned, confused. “What does this have to do with me?”

Victoria began to wring her hands together in her lap again, taking a few deep breaths. “The thing is, M, I told Mama that _we_ were in a relationship.”

“Oh.” Melbourne felt as though he had been slapped again and could feel his heart beating irregularly. _“Maybe I should see a doctor?”_ he thought.

“Oh, indeed. I wanted you to come to dinner anyway...but now I must ask you to go along with the lie and Mama expects you to be there if we are dating. I understand if you say no; it's a big ask. I'll come up with another plan if you aren't on board. If I didn't say anything then I knew Mama would keep going on about it and I really don't want to go out with Albert.”

Melbourne raised his eyebrows, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process everything. Victoria kept talking, trying to justify the request at lightning speed and Melbourne could hear the panic and the upset in her voice. Pretending to be someone's boyfriend felt like something incredibly childish to do and his first instinct was to deny her suggestion, but there was a small part of his brain that was making him stop and re-evaluate the situation. Victoria was clearly distressed and he didn't like seeing her upset and hurt, and he knew that pretending to be her boyfriend for this dinner would make her happy. Then again, dinner with her over-bearing family and a Prince was a suffocatingly daunting task, especially when he had only known Victoria for a number of weeks and had never had a prolonged conversation with any member of her family.

Victoria began to trail off with tears in her eyes and she reached up to wipe one away with her index finger. If Melbourne were totally honest with himself, the idea of pretending to be Victoria's boyfriend was not entirely an unpleasant one, which confused him. She was someone that beguiled him and the more he second-guessed himself and considered her proposal, the more inclined he became to agree.

“Yes,” Melbourne said, not wholly aware he was even saying it. “I'll do it.”

Victoria's face began to light up once more, brimming with happiness. “Really, M?!”

“It's just one evening, right? What's the worst that could happen?” he said, breaking into a smile himself as Victoria did.

She pulled Melbourne into a tight hug, her body light with relief. She kissed his cheek and squeezed him. “M, you're a star! I don't know how I could ever thank you.”

“If I ever think of a way then I'll let you know,” Melbourne said in good humour.

Victoria grinned and let go of him, checking the time and began to ramble about how she had to go back to Flora's for dinner. Just as quickly as Victoria had arrived, she was gone again, running across the street and waving back at the window. There was a moment of quiet before suddenly everything that had just happened hit Melbourne all at once like a tonne of bricks, and left him feeling like he had been swept up in a hurricane.


	4. Sunrise and Shooting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Melbourne put their plan into action as they have dinner with Prince Leopold and the rest of Victoria's family.

The sun was half suspended in cloud, drifting like a boat on calm seas and making the sky glow peach and pink. The birds sung their morning song as they flitted past the window and nestled together on a nearby tree. Victoria stood by the window, watching them with an absent smile. The clock on the wall ticked with a quiet, musical tone. Tick. Tick. Tick, but Victoria could barely hear it over the sound of the birds. She stood on her tip-toes, stretched her little body up and reached out to push the top of the window open, letting the birdsong fill the room in a second. She closed her eyes and took five deep breaths. Breathing in and out. In and out. There was a strange, comforting peace this early in the morning with only the sounds of birds, the clock, and her breathing to be heard. This was a time where there was peace and silence before the raucousness of the day began and Victoria thought she needed this tranquil moment, especially today. She could smell the freshly cut grass whenever she breathed in deep and could feel the soft and silky satin of her dressing gown against her skin as the breeze danced through the window. Her eyelids were red and heavy. Victoria turned to look at the clock – 5:55am. She sighed and slipped on her slippers, then grabbed her mobile phone before quietly opening the door, hoping that it wouldn't creak and wake Flora, who was still tucked up in bed and snoozing next door. Victoria was as quiet as mouse as she crept across the hallway and ran down the stairs, letting her satin dressing gown trail and float behind her like she was a princess from a book. The key to the garden was sat in the lock of the back door and Victoria turned it, smiling at the satisfying sound of the click as it unlocked. The air was mild on her face and the breath of the Earth made her long, deep dark hair wave and tangle. She took photographs of the sunrise with her phone, smiling up at the sky, despite the nerves and tiredness in her chest. She sent a photograph of the sunrise through the trees to Melbourne.

_Couldn't sleep – too nervous. I've got this beautiful photo to show for it though. I hope I haven't woken you._

_V xo_

Melbourne was sat on his sofa with the news on, his television on mute when the text message came through. His living room curtains were closed, refusing to let any light in just yet – he barely noticed the pink luminescence trying to make its way in regardless of the fabric barrier. His blue and white plaid dressing gown was starting to yellow – it was worn and scratchy and there was a hole in the armpit. He scratched his face, the noise of his nails scraping against his stubble went right through him. There were still a number of newspapers stacked up on the sofa next to him, but he had made an attempt to clean since Victoria had last visited. He smiled when he saw Victoria's name flash up on his phone screen, glad that she was awake too. Melbourne's eyes were dark and also suffering from a lack of sleep, but he felt wide awake when Victoria made herself known through the screen.

_You'll be okay, I'm sure. It's one dinner and I'll be there, so will Flora. It's only a night, remember? It's barely anything. That's a beautiful photograph, by the way._

_M...x_

He would not let her know, but Melbourne was just as nervous, if not more so. Melbourne needed to be unafraid and level-headed since, if they were both nervous wrecks, then their entire plan would fail. Flora would only be able to hold the charade on her own for so long before Victoria's family realised that all was not as it seemed. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself another mug of black coffee, keeping his phone in the pocket of his dressing gown, hoping that he might feel it buzz again. His flat was quiet – rare, now, as the builders were downstairs often, filling the flat with the sound of their tools and boyish conversation. He took his coffee back to his bedroom and from his wardrobe hung a black suit that had an air of must about it from where it had been shoved away and hidden after the funeral. He was scared to wear it again, but it was all he had to wear for dinner with a Prince and a girl he loved. The thought went through his mind at great speed.

The morning went by painfully slowly, allowing the uneasiness and stress boil up inside both Victoria and Melbourne alike. Victoria went back to her flat in the afternoon to begin getting ready for the dinner, trying on a number of different outfits in varying colours, unable to find something that made her feel more comfortable and confident. She always thought the right outfit could hide a multitude of emotions. When Melbourne arrived in his suit, he followed the trail of clothes Victoria had left, leading to the bedroom where she was pinning her hair into place.

“M! I'm glad you're here – I need you to tell me how I look.” She stepped away from her mirror and slowly turned so Melbourne could see. Victoria had settled on wearing a warm plum coloured dress – which made the icy blue of her eyes more vibrant – that had a white lace collar. The waistline sat tight against her, accentuating the 1950's shaped skirt that sat a few centimetres below her knees. She wore low black heels and her hair was pinned neatly to the back of her head, leaving only two dark strands either side of her face to frame it.

Melbourne looked at her, smiling from one side of his mouth. “Stunning as always, Miss Victoria.”

“Please, it's just Victoria,” she laughed. “If you're going to be my boyfriend for a night then you're going to have to drop the pleasantries. Oh, M, you look so handsome.” He had shaved his stubble and styled his hair back neatly. He wore a black tie with his suit, but it was tied crookedly, and he had silver cuff-links on his shirt cuffs. Melbourne still felt uncomfortable in the suit, but he couldn't tell her why, not yet at least. “Would you like some help with your tie?” She asked him.

Melbourne nodded and thanked her as she carefully untied the knot with her perfectly manicured fingernails. She tied it again for him, singing under her breath as she did so. “Twice around the tree the little rabbit ran with the quick grey fox close behind. Under a bush, the little rabbit fled escaping that fox one more time. With a giant leap, rabbit barely cleared the top of a big, round log. Poor fox could only watch as the little rabbit dove to the safety of his cool, dark hole!” The tie was neat and perfectly tied and Victoria looked up at him, her eyes bright and hands still lingering over Melbourne's chest.

“What was that?” He asked her.

“A song to help you remember how to tie a tie. I've heard Mama sing it to Friedrich multiple times, even though he's old enough to tie a tie himself.”

Melbourne tilted his head, looking down at Victoria and resisting the urge to put his arms around her waist. “Friedrich?”

“My half-brother.”

“You have a brother?” Melbourne asked, surprised.

“And a sister, Feodora.”

“Will they be at dinner tonight too?”

“No, they're both married and settled in Germany. I suspect Uncle Leopold will visit them there soon.”

“Do you miss them?”

Victoria paused and nodded. “Terribly.” She seemed to realise she was still touching Melbourne's chest and cleared her throat. She took a step back and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Would you like some flowers for your hair?” Melbourne asked suddenly. “I have plenty of fresh ones from the allotment this morning.”

She began to perk up again and ran downstairs to the shop to look through all of the flowers, Melbourne followed behind her. He thought they were like the fox and the rabbit from the song. Victoria browsed through the flowers but didn't find any that clicked with her until she stopped and asked if Melbourne had any more orchids. He grabbed a few and pinned them into her hair, smiling, and had to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. Victoria's brain flashed with another idea and scoured the entire shop, glad it was the builders' day off, looking for a safety pin. When she found one, she pinned it to the lapel of Melbourne's jacket and slipped an orchid through it, “so we can match.”

They travelled to Uncle Leopold's London home in a taxi, Victoria muttering about how many people were homeless in London and yet Leopold had more than one home spanning multiple countries. Leopold's house stood grand and unmoving in a cold, grey colour that seemed to stand over and engulf anyone that stood before it. Victoria immediately grabbed Melbourne's hand as they made their way up the steps to the front door, squeezing it as tightly as she could. They didn't even need to knock; the door appeared to open all on its own. Inside was gilded and white with large portraits on the walls and even an ancient suit of armour in the corner, which made Victoria scoff and snigger whenever she saw it. Melbourne felt quite small being somewhere so grand and gently rubbed the back of Victoria's hand with his thumb.

A waiter in a smartly pressed suit emerged from behind them, holding a silver tray with a number of crystal champagne flutes. Victoria and Melbourne took a glass each and followed him to a hall where the majority of other guests had already arrived, including Flora, who ran over to greet them, eyeing their clasped hands.

“Are you both okay?” She asked in a low voice, well aware that Mama and John Conroy were sat by the fireplace across the room and eyeing them suspiciously.

“Terrified,” Victoria whispered. “I can't wait to leave.”

“'Drina! There you are,” Mama called. “Introduce John and I to this man of yours properly.”

Flora gave them an encouraging smile and stepped away, letting Victoria and Melbourne make their way over to where Mama sat. She had a smug look on her face as John looked at them with disapproval and disdain.

“Mama...” Victoria paused, looking over at Conroy and his snake-like eyes, “John...I'd like you to meet my partner, William Lamb-Melbourne.”

Melbourne smiled at them and kissed the back of Mama's hand before shaking John Conroy's. “I've heard so much about you,” he said to them both. “It's a pleasure.”

Conroy didn't take his eyes off of Victoria. “I'm sure.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before the doors to the hall swung open and three men came striding in. There was an older man with thick dark sideburns and sunken looking eyes, but he had a heavy head of black hair with a few silver strands that stood out like stars in the night sky despite his age. He carried himself tall and he had his two sons close behind him: Albert and Ernst. Ernst had a round head and pointed chin with hair that was soft and chestnut brown. He wore a blue suit that made the brown of his eyes even warmer. Albert was far more reserved than his older brother and his father, keeping his head down a touch, his eyes hidden behind dark eyebrows and a curly hair. You could only just see his moustache.

“Dear Sister!” The man with the starry hair called, moving swiftly towards Mama with his arms outstretched. “How wonderful to see you and John again,” his German accent was even more prominent than Mama's.

“Ernest, it's been so long,” she said. “You remember 'Drina?”

He turned to look at Victoria and she smiled back. “Uncle Ernest. How have you been? I'd like you to meet my partner,” she gestured to Melbourne and he introduced himself.

Ernst, meanwhile, mingled easily with the group. He moved around the hall with a glass in his hand as though he were dancing, making an impression effortlessly on everyone with his good humour and smooth-like-chocolate charm. Albert kept close to the piano, his fingertips brushing delicately across the keys until it was too much for him to resist. He began to play a slow tune, making everyone stop and stare, coming over to watch him in pure delight. Mama and Conroy took one another's hands, standing and beginning to dance, moving around in circles with smiles. Ernst, after having cosied up to a waiter, took Flora by the hand, pulling her into a dance as well. She laughed but didn't take her eyes off of Albert as Ernst kept his eyes fixed on the waiter. Uncle Ernest nudged Victoria telling her that she and Melbourne ought to dance too. Victoria, smiling nervously, looked up at Melbourne who took her by the hand to the middle of the floor. He put one arm around her waist and Victoria put her hand on his shoulder, following Melbourne's lead. He was a surprisingly good dancer and didn't trip up whenever Victoria stepped on his toes.

“When did you learn to dance?” Victoria asked.

“I took a few lessons before I got married,” he explained. “I thought tripping over in the wedding video wouldn't make for the most romantic of wedding memories.”

Victoria laughed. “You might be right there,” she paused before daring to ask, “do you miss your ex-wife?”

Melbourne considered it for a second. “No,” he looked at Victoria's kind, soft eyes with a smile. “Caroline and I were not the wisest of matches in the end.” How could he miss her when Victoria was right there in front of him and in his arms?

“Am I acting like I would be better match for you?” Victoria asked, regretting it almost immediately.

“Yes,” he said in an instant. “Very much so.”

“Do you regret marrying Caroline?”

“No. We had good marriage for a time, with good that came out of it too.”

“Like what?” Victoria asked, her natural curiosity getting the better of her, but by the time Melbourne opened his mouth to answer, the music had stopped and Uncle Leopold had made his presence known.

The most Princely thing about Leopold at this moment was the blue sash around his torso with a number of important-looking badges on it. Leopold was younger than Ernest and older than Mama but his hair was already thinning on top, but he looked remarkably well with glowing skin that made him look so much younger than he was. He hugged his brother and kissed his sister's hand before greeting his nephews and Victoria.

“What's this I hear about you owning a cafe, 'Drina? Your Mother has been rather perplexed by the whole situation.” Leopold laughed and looked to Melbourne for answers and tried to work out who he was.

“It's about time I had something of my own, Uncle, don't you agree? I cannot be living with Mama for the rest of my life. Have you met William?” She gestured to Melbourne with a smile.

“Oh, so this is the boyfriend and business partner,” Leopold said, pretending to be delighted. “It's good to meet you at last.”

“And you, Your Royal Highness,” Melbourne said, bowing a little.

Uncle Leopold led them all to the dining hall soon after, each plate having a name place in front of it, dictating the seating position. Victoria frowned when she realised that Albert would be sat next to her and Melbourne would be sitting opposite her, but she didn't say anything. The dining hall was brightly lit with a chandelier that was perhaps too large for the space, the floor was made from white marble, the table from the finest wood with a number of floral centrepieces flowing down the middle of it. Flora was quite happily sandwiched between Albert's other side and Ernst, and she was unable to hide her joy. The dinner was five-course and Victoria, determined to keep peace, tried to make conversation with Albert by talking about her and Melbourne's shop, speaking fast and excitedly, her eyes lighting up as Melbourne smiled at her with a great fondness.

“It sounds like you are enjoying it,” Albert said carefully. “But I can't say that I think dating a man old enough to be your father is a good idea.”

Victoria sipped at her champagne, trying to keep herself calm. “I suppose you think you would be a better match for me like everyone else does?”

“Not at all. You're way too...you,” Albert said with ease, waving a hand.

“What's that supposed to mean?!” Victoria exclaimed, not realising just how loud her voice was.

“It's just that you're so loud...so forceful...so energetic...so...not my type,” Albert said, eating again.

“Then it's a good job that I'm very happy with William, isn't that right?” Victoria said, looking to Melbourne for some kind of help.

“Oh, yes, very happy,” he assured Albert and those listening to their conversation.

John Conroy didn't seem convinced by them, asking them how they got together so suddenly and smirking at Melbourne and Victoria's panicked faces. They hadn't thought too much about the details, hoping that there would be so many other things to talk about that they would forget all about them. Ernst was living a wild life so far and often ended up in trouble: police stations, accident and emergency, turning up in skips outside of German and London bars alike...so Victoria was hoping that his behaviour would take precedence over her love life.

“Working and living so closely together was bound to bring us together in other ways,” Melbourne said quickly.

“Exactly!” Victoria said with a laugh. “Plus I thought him extremely handsome from the moment we first met.” Not a lie.

Melbourne smiled, his heart fluttering wildly. “And I have been...totally in love since I first lifted that door off of her.”

Silence swept over the table.

“Love?” Mama said, looking at Conroy and then at Victoria and Melbourne. “You've only known 'Drina for five minutes! How can you love her already?!”

Victoria looked at Melbourne with her mouth slightly ajar and Flora couldn't resist sniggering. Melbourne looked down at his plate, eating again so his mouth was too full for him to speak and put his foot in it again. His words had been truth, it had taken a long time for him to realise that had let himself love again without even knowing it. He had closed himself off to many suitors for years when all of a sudden, Victoria literally came crashing into his life and her brightness filled him to the brim. She had stolen his heart and he had vowed never to let anyone do that again after Caroline, for it was too fragile to be broken again and he had not been prepared to let the possibility of that happen again. At least, in this situation, he had been able to tell Victoria that he did in fact love her, and no one would take it seriously. She wouldn't know that it was the truth as they kept playing their little love game for her family.

Victoria downed her champagne, growing irate with the disapproval being chucked her way by all except Flora and Ernst. She could feel the anger in her chest and a deep sadness that sat behind that, where she hoped Melbourne's words were true. The more Melbourne was met with disapproval, the more Victoria became defensive.

“I hardly think it's any of your places to make comment about my relationships, especially not to my face! M...William, has been most kind and loving and I could not imagine a better business, and romantic, partner. Now if you don't mind, I'm sure there are more important things we could be discussing!”

There was silence again and Ernst made one of his rude jokes, trying to break the tension as Victoria got up to leave, too angry for the moment to stay and be polite to everyone. Melbourne apologised and followed her, finding her in the living room, pacing with her fists clenched.

“Did I go too far?” Melbourne asked, sitting down on the sofa.

Victoria sighed and threw herself on the sofa next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. “Not at all. It was sweet actually...very convincing. I'm just so angry that my family think they can treat me this way! I might be the youngest but I'm not a baby.”

“Definitely not,” Melbourne agreed, putting his arm around her and holding her close to him, trying to make her feel better.

“I can't believe they would speak about you like that either!”

“Water off a duck's back, I assure you,” he smiled. “You seem to be taking it harder than me.”

“That's because I care what people think of you, especially my family.”

Melbourne gave her a crooked smile, almost out of disbelief. “Why?”

Victoria sat up, still staying close to him with barely a gap between them, their heads touching – Victoria's forehead on Melbourne's temple now. Her anger was beginning to disappear but there was a new feeling brewing in her stomach instead. It was that familiar feeling where butterflies were dancing and her heart was beating loud like a drum. She could smell Melbourne's hair; freshly washed with crisp apple shampoo, and his heady, intoxicating cologne in sharp contrast with one another. She could feel himself being drawn ever nearer to him.

“Because I care about you deeply,” she whispered, hesitantly moving her head so they were touching foreheads instead. They were so close to one another that Melbourne could smell her sweet champagne breath and the faint scent of her peach lipstick. Like nervous magnets they drew ever closer.

The door was pushed open, making Victoria and Melbourne jump away from one another before their lips could touch. Both of them having their butterflies shot dead in an instant. Ernst leant against the door, a glass in hand and a smug look on his face.

“Uncle Leopold would like you back for dessert. Have I interrupted something?” He asked, downing his champagne in one.

“No,” they both said at once and Victoria got to her feet, smoothed out her dress and cleared her throat. “You're drinking awfully quickly, Cousin, is everything alright?” She asked Ernst.

Ernst grinned, gesturing for a waiter who stood by the door, he grabbed another glass and winked at him. The waiter, a little flustered, smiled and went away again. “I already managed to get three of the waiter's numbers. I think Humphrey is my favourite though...I can't wait to see if he humps as freely as his name suggests,” Ernst winked.

“Oh, Ernst, you never change,” Victoria said fondly as she walked up to him and kissed his cheek. “How Uncle Ernest must despair of you sometimes.”

“No more than Auntie despairs of you, I'm sure. Come, 'Drina, Mr Melbourne, dessert awaits us.”

They followed Ernst back to the dining hall, not looking at one another. Victoria, however, did take Melbourne's hand as they walked through, only letting go so Melbourne could sit back in his own seat. She quietly apologised to Albert for snapping and invited him to talk more about himself so that they might be friends.

Albert worked closely with a number of charities, he volunteered regularly, he enjoyed train rides and looking at the history of trains, he practised playing the piano daily. His interests were far more subdued and calm than that of his elder brother's. Even though the two were wildly different in personality, Albert and Ernst were extremely close and could almost be mistaken for twins.

After dessert, Uncle Leopold stood and the waiters came to clear the table. He smiled and gestured back towards the hall with the piano again. “Alexandrina, Albert, how about we hear you playing the piano together? I hear you're both talented beyond measure.”

Albert looked to Victoria. “I'm happy to do so if you are.”

“One song won't hurt,” Victoria agreed.

Uncle Leopold led the group to the hall and Albert and Victoria perched on the edge of the piano seat, muttering quietly together about what they would play. Victoria kept getting distracted from Albert because she could see Melbourne out of the corner of her eye, talking to John Conroy and her Mama. Albert nudged her a number of times, trying to get her to concentrate. It took a little over five minutes for them to finally decide. Their fingers moved together on either side of the piano, almost as though they were attempting to race one another, Victoria playing faster and faster, looking over at Melbourne and back again. Her movements were clumsy and caused a cacophony of sound against Albert's gentle tones, now spending more time looking at Melbourne than she did the piano. Albert soon stopped completely.

“I cannot play with you like that when you are distracted,” He told her.

Victoria took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the piano. “I don't think I want to play at all.”

“You said you wanted to,” Albert protested. “You're so fickle! You never could make up your mind.”

“I'll be whatever I want to be, whenever I want to be!” She exclaimed, rushing to Melbourne's side again, linking their arms together. Victoria could feel the fizz of the champagne and Melbourne's cologne in her head. “I think we should dance,” she said as Albert's music began to pick up again. “Let's not have Albert's talents go to waste.”

“A marvellous idea, 'Drina!” Leopold exclaimed. “It's a pity that there aren't enough women for all of us.”

Ernst raised his eyebrow, smirking. “Pity might not be the word I'd use for that, Uncle.”

Leopold ignored his nephew's comment. “I'm planning on staying for a few weeks yet, we can have another dance and invite more girls. I'm sure 'Drina and my dearest sister have plenty of friends.”

Uncle Ernest made a noise of agreement. “Myself and the boys would gladly stay. It's so rare we get to see our sister and niece. Plus, I need to see what this Mr Melbourne has that my Albert doesn't, beside a few extra years of course.”

Victoria's heart sunk. They'd have to continue the charade for a lot longer than she and Melbourne had anticipated, which meant there was more opportunity for their game to unravel and come to a halt. She could feel the fluttering feeling again, only this time she thought she was going to be sick. What if Melbourne wouldn't go along with it for longer than tonight? What if her family continued to try and force a date between her and Albert? Victoria didn't have time to dwell on it for long as Melbourne distracted her from her thoughts by pulling her into a dance in a swift, gentle motion.

“Is something the matter?” Melbourne asked.

“I didn't mean to drag you into all of this,” Victoria sighed. “I'm so sorry. If I had known my uncles were staying for longer than this then I would never have asked you to do this for me...but I so can't bear the idea of dating Albert. We're so unsuited.”

“Is it because you'd rather date another?” Melbourne asked, smiling. “Because if it's Ernst then I think you're not his type anyway,” he joked as they danced passed Ernst who was whispering into the ear of Humphrey the waiter.

Victoria snorted. “You're quite ridiculous, M.”

“I'll lie for you as long as you need me to,” he promised. “It's not fair you have to go to this length to get your family to stop being so controlling over you.”

“Life isn't fair,” Victoria said easily.

Melbourne nodded, smiling helplessly. “I think I have to agree with you there.” They danced carefully around those who stood and watched, Victoria picking up the steps quite easily with Melbourne there to lead her and guide her. He span them around the piano, both smiling broadly at one another and Melbourne gave an amused smile, speaking low. “You might not have to worry about your family's obsession with you and Albert for much longer.”

Flora and Albert were sat close together on the piano seat, Flora watching him play in silence and copying his finger movements by hovering over the keys. They laughed together when Albert missed a key and Flora continued the piece, Albert instructing her as she went.

Victoria couldn't help beaming from ear to ear. “They're getting on like a house on fire. She's always thought him handsome...they would be a handsome couple together.”

They all danced and drank for a few hours more, swapping partners and exchanging pleasantries with those they didn't know so well just yet. Victoria became increasingly clingy to Melbourne though he didn't mind, and her little crooked drunk smile made his heart become lighter than air. Her slurred speech was almost as endearing.

“'M glad we're in business,” she told him, finally sitting down, getting too dizzy to keep dancing. “I can't imagine anyone better.”

Melbourne kept holding her hand, squeezing it. “Me neither. We have plenty to look forward to when we open next week.”

“It's a dream come true! You're a dream come true, M.”

Uncle Leopold raised his eyebrows as he walked past. “You're opening your business next week?”

“That's the plan, at least, Sir,” Melbourne agreed. “We're looking forward to it immensely.”

Leopold smiled, a slow, growing smile that would be more at home in a horror movie. “Then we should all come to the grand opening! We'd love to see what our little 'Drina has been getting up to.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes, trying to work out what her uncle was saying, her brain too full of champagne fog to let his words sink in properly.

“We'd be honoured if you joined us,” Melbourne insisted, sitting down next to Victoria. “We're very proud of the changes we've made so far, aren't we?”

She nodded. “Oh yes...Bring everyone!”

Leopold promised that he would, going off to tell Ernest and the others who all agreed to go – excited and interested to see what Victoria had done with herself in terms of business. Melbourne sighed, feeling the nerves creep into his body once again. Victoria didn't yet understand the enormity of the situation and all she wanted to do was dance, and it was Melbourne she wanted to dance with. She bounced up, slipping slightly in her heels and trying to pull Melbourne up to the floor. He got up to support her as she began to sway to one side.

“No more dancing for you,” Melbourne told her firmly. “Let's go out and get you some air.” He walked Victoria outside to a balcony where she could lean against the railings and let the fresh, early autumn night cleanse her mind of the alcohol.

Leopold's London house was far enough on the outskirts of the city for stars to be visible and Victoria looked up with a broad smile and sparkling eyes, watching each twinkle appear. She whispered that it was like magic. Melbourne watched her from the door, smiling himself. Her skin was illuminated by the moon and he felt breathless by her beauty in this light. Victoria pointed up excitedly, making Melbourne look too.

“Oh, M, it's a shooting star!” She exclaimed like a child.

“So it is,” Melbourne said after a pause, watching the light move across the sky. “You'd better make a wish.”

“Only if you do too,” she instructed, closing her eyes and letting her mind and heart think of all she wanted. Victoria already had more than she ever dreamed of – a flat, a business, friends, a mostly loving family. She wanted for nothing and yet she found herself wishing hard with her eyes squeezed shut, her heart yearning.

Melbourne agreed to wish and closed his own eyes, knowing completely that Victoria was all he could wish for and that the light across the sky was, in fact, a plane.


	5. The Grand Re-Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melbourne and Victoria's shop is open for business and Melbourne's made a big decision.

September had come bearing plump juicy fruits of amethyst, sapphire and emerald. They glistened against the early morning sun in Melbourne's allotment, seemingly not concerned that the cold Autumn air was already beginning to settle in. Melbourne's breath danced in front of him, drifting up like smoke from a chimney before disappearing into nothing. He had a basket on the ground by his feet, half-filled with flowers like the world's busiest bouquet. He enjoyed coming out to the allotment early in the morning before the rest of society started their day. Even in cold weather he revelled in his moments of peace where it was just him, his flowers, and his fruits. Melbourne's fingers shivered in his fingerless gloves as he picked and pruned, occasionally looking over his shoulder and smiling at Victoria. She had begged Melbourne to let her come with him so she could see how he worked, and he couldn't very well say no to her enthusiastic demeanour. If he would let anyone disrupt his silence then it would only be Victoria.

She was stood on a stool beneath a tree, clad in a heavy jade coat and hiding in a white scarf. Melbourne had brought a spare basket with them and she had it in the crook of her arm as she picked apples, enjoying the snap of the stem as she twisted each apple off of the branch. Once she thought she had enough, she stepped off her stool and made her way to the blackberry bush. Victoria picked one then put it in her basket. She picked another, then ate it. She picked another and put that one in her basket too. The next one went into her stomach and her cheeks flushed as purple as the berry when Melbourne turned and caught her.

“There won't be any left if you keep doing that,” he teased.

“Opening a business is hungry work,” Victoria protested, picking a few more berries and making a point of putting them in her basket.

“We've got hours to open yet,” Melbourne pointed out, amused. He stood and picked up his basket. “Ready to go back?”

Victoria took Melbourne's arm as they walked back, walking in comfortable silence. They were a few days behind schedule on opening their shop due to an unfortunate issue with some damaged furniture, but they were optimistic all would go well. The floors had been freshly polished and buffed, the walls had been given a fresh coat of paint, Victoria's paintings hung gracefully along the walls, each table had a small, thin vase with two fresh flowers poking out of the top. They had put in window boxes under the windows outside – an extension of their mini flower garden out the back of the building. It was a far cry from the vandalised and bubblegum mess that it was before and Melbourne had never seen the place looked so loved. They had erected a kind of blind over their new shop sign and name, tethering it down so no-one could pull it away early.

In the days leading up to the opening, Victoria had made leaflets inviting the locals to come and join them for coffee, pie, and reduced bouquet prices for the weekend as both a peace offering to those that protested their building work, and as a way to draw in new customers. As soon as they got back to their shop, Victoria took her basket upstairs and set about baking a number of blackberry and apple pies to sell at the opening. Melbourne stayed downstairs making sure that all was set up and ready so they could confidently open the doors on their business. He was checking the inventory list when the fresh, comforting smell of blackberry pie came wafting through the building. The scent felt nostalgic somehow and he allowed himself to follow it upstairs to Victoria's flat. Her door had been left ajar so he pushed it, letting it swing open and engulf him in baking aromas. Victoria grinned when she saw Melbourne lurking by the kitchen.

“What do you think?” she asked. Victoria held a baked pie in her oven-gloved hands. It was gold and crisp on top with little patches of deep purple around the outside where the blackberry juices had bubbled up and escaped through the gaps in the pastry lid and steam hole.

Melbourne grinned at the pie then at Victoria's warm, flour-covered face. “Beautiful.”

“You really think so?” she put it aside to let it cool.

“Most definitely.” Melbourne laughed, “you can play piano, paint, bake, run a business, you're related to a Prince, you're quick-witted...you might actually be the perfect woman.”

Victoria laughed, her little button nose crinkling up. “Oh, M, you're teasing me!”

“I'm not! You've got a little flour on your cheek, by the way.”

Victoria wiped at her cheek but she kept missing it. Melbourne rolled his eyes and wiped it away with his thumb, brushing her skin gently, treating her almost as though she were a vintage porcelain doll. He felt lucky he could be as close and intimate with her as much as he was – Victoria could be so guarded at times. She didn't seem that close with her mother, her uncles, her cousins...perhaps the closest she was to someone was Flora, but they were friends. She didn't feel for Victoria romantically like he did.

Melbourne could feel the heat of the blush on her cheek and the softness of her otherwise snowy skin. He remembered how he used to brush his fingers across Caroline's skin like this too. He had loved Caroline deeply, a long time ago, before tragedy and betrayal struck them, until what they used to be ended up in ashes. They had become a fire that burned with such intensity that they left damage wherever they had been. Melbourne thought that throughout the happy times in their marriage, Caroline had been a lily, where Victoria was now a rose. Both were beautiful in their own way, but completely different. He could never love one more than the other, he could never compare their beauty, he could never put one against the other. Both were as important to him as the other and he could not imagine his life if neither had existed. Brushing either one of their skin would always feel like brushing against the soft edges of a petal.

Melbourne swiftly realised his hand had been lingering over Victoria's cheek, so he took a step back and held his hands behind his back. Victoria gave him a fond smile.

“Did you get it all off?” she asked.

“Get what off?”

“The flour.”

“Oh!” Melbourne said, remembering why he had been touching her in the first place. “Yes, I think so...I'm going to, um, head back downstairs and finish up there,” he added, rushed, before he turned away and ran back down to the shop, leaving Victoria the bemused one for once.

The sun had arrived by midday and melted the frigid air into something that felt like summer again. The heat rose up between the buildings and in every room – Victoria's kitchen becoming almost unbearable to work in. The trees were turning yellow, flecked with orange and the grass was beginning to dim in colour, making the world look like an open corn field. The afternoon sunshine was as intense as it was in the summer, penetrating through the windows and striking everything it could reach on the other side of the glass. A blinding refraction of light.

A sizeable crowd was beginning to gather outside, somewhat agitated by the heat in their winter coats from a cold morning. Victoria kept watching them from her window as she tried to change into something more appropriate than her winter wear and baking apron. She settled on a swing skirt in black and a white blouse in an attempt to make herself look like the grown-up owner of a business, though she couldn't resist splashes of colour in her shoes, going for powder blue pair of heels and a matching necklace. She kept her hair simple in a ballet bun and minimalist make-up. Melbourne, upon seeing her, felt compelled to make himself look smart too. On one hand, he wanted to make an impression on the new customers, but he also wanted to impress Victoria. He never dressed as well as he did when he was around her. He wore a clean, ironed blue shirt and black trousers.

There was a knock at the back door – a quick rap of three knocks with an echo where rings were smacking against the glass. Victoria let out a high-pitched squeal when she opened the door which met Melbourne with mild alarm. He softened however, when he got to the door to find Victoria kneeling on the floor, her Mama stood outside and a black, white and tan King Charles Spaniel in Victoria's lap who was licking her and trying to climb all over her. Victoria was laughing with a smile that Melbourne had not seen on her before. Mama Victoria stepped around them to come inside the shop, giving Melbourne a look as though to warn him of something.

“'Drina will never love anything, or _anyone_ , as much as she loves that dog.”

“You're exaggerating, Mama,” Victoria told her. “He also has a name. His name is Dash, isn't it, beautiful?” she said to Dash, scratching the top of his head.

Dash soon became tired of Victoria's cuddles and kisses and instead started to sniff around Melbourne's feet. The corners of Melbourne's mouth twitched up as he reached down to pet Dash and fuss him as Victoria had. Dash sniffed his hand before licking him and trying to jump up at him. Victoria clasped her hands together with excitement as she stood upright.

“Oh, he likes you, M!” she squealed. “That makes two of us, doesn't it, Dashy?”

Melbourne could feel himself blush. “He's lovely.”

Mama rolled her eyes, somewhat irritated that Melbourne was getting along with Dash, and made her way through to see the new shop, looking around with beady eyes to try and spot something that she could make a negative comment on. She huffed when she couldn't find anything. Her fingers came away clean when she ran them across tables, light fixtures, the floor, checking for dust and dirt.

Victoria watched her from the door, Dash in her arms and Melbourne stood behind her, almost like the perfect family portrait. “Is something wrong, Mama?”

“No...you've done a wonderful job here,” she said begrudgingly. “John, your uncles, and your cousins should be here soon. I only came early to give you the dog back.”

Melbourne checked his silver watch. The second hand had fallen off and lay at the bottom stuck between the glass and metal, but he could still see the hour and minute hands. It was almost one in the afternoon.

“I think it's time we went out there and revealed our sign,” Melbourne told them, heading out towards the back door, taking a long pole with him with a hook on the end so he could pull down the cover that was hiding their new combined shop name.

Victoria followed him excitedly, keeping Dash in her arms. Mama was quick on their heels and joined the front of the crowd; they cheered when the two owners made their way round to the front of the shop. They stood together between the two original doors of the shops, waiting for everyone to settle down again. There were a number of the younger protesters from the area, locals they had never seen before, they could even see a number of local journalists with their notebooks already in hand and the photographers by their sides with their cameras already pointing at them in anticipation. Even the protester with the sausage fingers and blonde moustache was lurking around.

Melbourne let Victoria take the limelight since this was her great idea and her great vision that he just gladly got swept up in. She stood tall in front of the crowd with her hands placed together demurely in front of her. She smiled brightly, with Dash at her feet now, and welcomed everyone to the opening. Melbourne could only watch as Victoria began to deliver a clear, concise and optimistic speech about how they came about designing the shop, the hardships and work that came with starting a new business, the backlash they had faced over the building proposals and how she hoped this new fusion shop would be a heart for the local community. Melbourne stared at her with a proud smile, unable to tear his eyes away from Victoria to look at the captivated crowd for even a second.

“We are so proud and honoured to be sharing our grand re-opening with you,” Victoria began to finish. “So, without further adieu, I'd like to welcome you all to...”

Melbourne quickly pulled down the cover with the hook to reveal their glossy white sign that Victoria had designed. On the left of the sign was a bouquet of flowers and a coffee cup on the right with their shop telephone number in small print at the bottom. In the middle of all this was one word in Victoria's own handwriting – black cursive that leaned a little to the right: **_Espressaroma._**

The name was met with a few amused laughs and claps.

“Yes, welcome to Espressaroma! The only place where you can get a coffee and enjoy bouquets of fresh flowers every day under the same roof. There's nothing quite like the aroma of freshly ground and brewed coffee with the gentle scents of this seasons most successful and beautiful blooms. Now, please, follow us inside and we hope you enjoy this unique experience,” Victoria finished, her heart beating with excitement.

Melbourne and Victoria opened the doors on both sides of the shop, allowing the customers to flood in from either side. Victoria found herself making coffee after coffee and that her home-made pies were going down a storm with customers, who were sitting happily around the tables with great big smiles painted on their faces, making satisfied sounds as they sipped at their coffee. Victoria was so swamped in fact, she had to rope her Mama into acting as a waitress in order to keep a steady flow going and keep the tables clean ready for the next lot of customers. She helped but muttered under her breath and smiled sarcastically at customers as she did so. Dash slept soundly behind the counter where Victoria was making the coffees.

The florists on the other side of the shop was proving to be just as popular with customers buying pre-made bouquets and tailor-made ones alike. A lot of them too seemed interested in what some of the flowers symbolised as well as asking Melbourne for gardening tips. He could barely keep up with the demand for bouquets. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this busy – even when he first took over the shop he wasn't entirely sure he had ever been this busy. With this new opening, Melbourne had faith in his business once again - he started to love working again because he was no longer working only out of necessity. His heart bloomed with every purchase someone made, and he had Victoria to thank for it all.

Melbourne smiled as Albert came in with Flora on his arm, both of them talking closely together. Flora, however, let go of Albert to run and see Victoria, waving at Melbourne as she went by. Melbourne could see Albert watch her hurry away with a look he recognised. It was the same wistful and adoring look he would often give to Victoria. Melbourne had to nudge him from over the counter to make him stop gawking like a fish.

“Oh...” Albert said, a little embarrassed. “Have you got a small bouquet that would be suitable for the beginning of a courtship?”

Melbourne had to suppress his laugh at the phrase, but he gladly helped Albert put together a bouquet for Flora. Albert chose daisies, forget-me-nots, and yellow peonies all with trimmed down stems to fit neatly in Flora's hand, and Melbourne tied all the stems neatly together with a white ribbon.

“Thank you, Mr Melbourne,” Albert said. “Do you give 'Drina flowers too?”

“Sometimes. Mostly I let her take flowers from the shop floor as she likes. It's worth any financial loss to see her happy.”

Albert nodded, smiling. “I think that is how I am starting to feel about Miss Flora...tell me, Mr Melbourne, how did you manage to tell 'Drina that you cared for her romantically?”

There was a flash of panic in Melbourne's mind as he tried to find something to keep up their lie. He thought about how he would like to tell Victoria he loved her – by kissing her, by reading her poetry, by singing her a love song, by sky-writing, through flowers, by proposing right there on the spot, perhaps even by simply gathering just enough courage to look her directly in the eyes and tell her in the most simple terms that he loved her and he always would.

He remembered when he told Caroline that he loved her. Melbourne had been a much younger, more optimistic man in his early twenties who had never loved before. Caroline had barely reached nineteen when he confessed his love for her. He remembered how her midnight hair with tight curls tumbled down past her shoulders, how her dark alluring eyes looked at him as though he were the only man in the world and her pink, full mouth begged him to kiss her. Melbourne had taken her out for lunch for their third date and the words had slipped from his lips clumsily. She had looked so beautiful that he couldn't not tell her that he loved her. The urge to do this with Victoria rose at least once whenever he saw her. But he resisted. He couldn't let his heart be broken so easily again, and telling her meant having that possibility open up and he was not as strong as he used to be. But he thought that tonight, after the opening, it would be the perfect time to finally tell Victoria that he was in love with her. He had weighed up the rewards and consequences of doing so and decided that, since he was no longer a young man, he needed to seize happiness whilst he still could.

Melbourne was about to answer when Flora came rushing back to take Albert's hand. She pulled him toward a table where Victoria was serving up some pie and two cappuccinos, but she stopped when Albert presented her with the bright bouquet. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and admired them with a goofy grin.

It didn't take long for the rest of Victoria's family to join them. Ernst immediately charmed everyone he came into contact with, practically overflowing with exuberance and wit. He teased his younger brother. Uncle Ernest ordered a drink and sat with Uncle Leopold who had come in disguise – finding immense joy in the anonymity, though Victoria wondered how many Londoners would really recognise a Prince of Belgium if they saw one. Victoria's smile grew wider with every uncle, cousin and other family member came to see her on their opening day, even John Conroy's presence made her heart sing with pride. The support meant a lot more to her than she thought it would.

There was a steady stream of customers all through the afternoon and they even had to ask people to leave for closing time. Only Flora and Victoria's family remained once the doors were shut and locked. Mama hugged Victoria tightly, a small way of apologising for her disapproval and doubt when she had bought the shop. They all celebrated together with champagne, Victoria holding Melbourne around his waist – feeling strangely clingy since the two couldn't speak and be close to each other throughout the day as much as they had before they opened. She enjoyed being able to cling to Melbourne under the facade that they were dating. If she closed her eyes, it was almost as though her wish upon the 'shooting star' had come true.

“Thank you everyone for coming today,” Victoria said, raising her glass. “We've had an extremely successful afternoon and I can't wait to do a full day tomorrow!”

Melbourne nodded in agreement. “My shop has never been this busy in all the years I've been here and it's all down to this extremely incredible, intelligent, beautiful woman.” He kissed the top of Victoria's head after considering it for a second. The act managed to illicit a few hums where the family were beginning to warm to the idea of their relationship. Clearly the act was working. “If it weren't for Victoria then I would probably have gone under and lost my home. She's been my saviour.”

Victoria hugged him and kissed his cheek. Good spirits seemed to be around everyone and any family disagreements were forgotten, at least for now. Albert squeezed Flora's hand and kissed her knuckles, John Conroy put his arm around Mama, Uncle Ernest squeezed the shoulder of Ernst and Uncle Leopold looked upon his united family with a great fondness.

“Keep up the brilliant work, 'Drina. You and Mr Melbourne are clearly a marvellous team,” Leopold told her, going to kiss her forehead. “I can't wait to hear more about your success.”

There was a strange moment of calm after everyone else left through the back door. It hadn't been this quiet since the morning, but there was the evidence of a successful afternoon where there were a number of used coffee cups and plates on every table and empty containers where bouquets once sat. There was a buzz in both of their ears as their brains tried to process the sudden lack of sound. Dash followed Victoria around as they began to clean up, Victoria whistling to herself and Melbourne silently working up the courage to admit how he felt about her.

“Did you really mean what you said about me being your saviour?” Victoria asked, putting mugs in the dishwasher.

“Yes. I certainly wouldn't have had the money to continue living and working here if business didn't pick up.”

“It's only been one afternoon,” she reminded him. “We'll have to wait and see how things pan out over the coming weeks and months.”

Melbourne nodded. “Very true and very sensible.”

“I'm quietly confident that everything will pan out the way we want it to,” Victoria said firmly. “You will never become homeless on my watch, M.”

“Quietly confident? I'm not sure you've ever been quietly anything,” he teased, which only made Victoria laugh.

“I'm quietly confident, also, that Albert and Flora are quite smitten with one another. Did you see them today? Flora couldn't stop singing his praises to me earlier. It was really quite sweet.”

“He bought her flowers...he said he was beginning to feel as though he'd do anything to make her happy,” Melbourne reported. “He does seem like a fine gentleman. Honourable.”

“I think you're honourable,” Victoria said easily. “I'd rather have you over Albert any day.”

She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she said this. There was always the chance that Melbourne didn't feel the same way as she did, regardless of what kind words they shared, how they touched, how they laughed together. Victoria had never been in love before and it was exciting and terrifying in equal measure. Her hands would become clammy, her chest would ache, she would stand closer to him than was entirely necessary, her brain would seemingly fizz into nothing and short-circuit whenever Melbourne touched her. Even thinking about him like that now made her skin come up in goosebumps and her breath got caught in her throat. She pushed her feelings aside as much as she could, because why would he want to be with a silly young girl like her?

“You flatter me,” Melbourne said, smiling. He began to wash the floors with a mop. She was only being kind, she didn't mean it. Even though she didn't mean it, he still needed to tell her he loved her.

Victoria finished washing the dishes by hand those that didn't fit in the dishwasher and wiped down the tables. She picked up Dash who was being very patient for some attention, and he had been so for most of the afternoon. Victoria muttered about how she was going to go and feed him. Melbourne slowed his mopping down to a halt, just to watch her kindness and gentleness with this childhood pet of hers who was clearly more like a best friend. Her face was red from a hard afternoon's work and her hair was sliding out of her bun with plenty of wispy and frizzy sections that fell across her face and tickled the back of her neck. It was another moment where Melbourne thought she looked too beautiful not to say anything.

She turned on her heel to go to the flat, Dash securely in her arms as she walked, stroking and kissing his head. Melbourne could feel the words in his throat and he couldn't let her leave the room without telling her, or he would kick himself mentally for a week. He had loved her too long for her not to know. Victoria was at the door by the time Melbourne finally let four simple words escape from his mouth and heart.

“Victoria, I love you.”


	6. He Loves Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Melbourne struggle with their feelings during day two of Espressaroma's opening.

Scientists say that you do not sense time, but rather you perceive it. Your 'sense' of time is unlike any other of your senses – you can't taste it like you can the sweetness of candyfloss or the sourness of lemons, you can't hear it beyond the ticking of a clock, you can't see it with the exception of the constant rotation of the sun and the moon, you can't touch it like you can a warm, fluffy blanket or cold, hard steel. Time is tricky because all of your senses are acting like clockwork to send information to your brain in order for you to perceive time. It seems to go much slower when you're bored, when you're doing something new...your senses are constantly attempting to find a way to make your brain make meaning out of nothingness or new surroundings. Your senses are picking up every little detail it can, tricking your mind into thinking that time is moving so slowly that it isn't moving at all.

Melbourne could barely hear the cars outside – the London traffic didn't even seem to be there it was so quiet and slow. Melbourne's mind was eerily reposeful. The smell of soap from the floor cleaner lay in the back of Melbourne's nostrils – a gentle, lemon tickle. His tongue tasted like iron, it felt heavy in his mouth like it wasn't supposed to be there at all. He had never considered himself to be iron-tongued and he wouldn't start being so now. The sudden absence of his senses and his perception of time made his stomach turn and his brain fizz. There was the odd sensation that everything around Melbourne wasn't real. He could've reached out and felt nothing, not even the air. His lack of senses had put him into a vacuum. Melbourne closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He breathed out. He breathed in once more. Then breathed out. When he opened his eyes, his senses came rushing back to him all at once like a shove to the chest, winding him for a second.

Traffic zoomed past the window at great speed to try and beat the rush hour traffic, the smell of lemon floor cleaner and coffee filled his nose – making his nostrils flare and his stomach feel queasy. He could feel the cold metal handle of his mop in his hand and his tongue felt fleshy inside his mouth again. Melbourne watched the door from the shop to Victoria's flat swing on its hinges and he could hear the faint sound of her heels on the wooden stairs. Dash barked happily as they went and all was silent as Victoria's flat door shut with a click.

Melbourne's words had been too quiet in his mouth and they fell dead at his feet the moment he spoke.

He took a few moments to let the reality sink into his body and flow through his veins until he no longer felt sick but instead, felt hollow. Melbourne sighed and tore his eyes away from the door to continue mopping the floor until it glinted against the street lights outside. Melbourne switched off the lights and trudged upstairs to his own flat where he put a pre-made meal in the microwave and pulled across his curtains to shut himself off from the rest of the world. Victoria hadn't heard him and nothing had changed. He had said the words to her but he had said them just a second too late. A second earlier and his life might have taken another sharp turn, for better or worse, he wouldn't know. Melbourne fell asleep on the sofa after dinner.

* * *

 Victoria's alarm clock came in the guise of Dash jumping up on the bed and lying his head on Victoria's chest. He sat peacefully there for half an hour before licking Victoria's face until she opened her eyes. She smiled immediately. Victoria laughed and cuddled him, scratching him behind the ears and muttering how much she loved him and how she had missed him. When Dash finally jumped off the bed, she slipped out from beneath her crisp white bed covers until her petite bare feet touched the cold, wooden floorboards. She flung open her curtains and light came streaming through into the room in less than a second. It was considerably warmer than it had been yesterday morning. Victoria made her bed, fluffed up her pillows and began to run her hairbrush through the tangled mess the night had made of her hair.

She made porridge for breakfast with a heap of jam and some left over blackberries from yesterday. Dash waited patiently for his breakfast at Victoria's feet. Once she had fed him too, she jumped over her heels from yesterday - which had been kicked off and discarded when she went to bed - to shower and dress. Today she was a vision in royal blue.

Dash followed Victoria wherever she went and she loved having the loyal pet back by her side. He bounded happily down the stairs and on to the shop floor with her and laid behind the counter as Victoria prepared the cafe for a full day of work. She kept glancing towards Melbourne's flat door and the shop front door, hoping that he might appear and make her good morning a perfect one. He had that effect on her – every bad day could be made right again when Melbourne was in it. Every good day could be made perfect when Melbourne was in it. His presence in her life made her entire body smile and shine. She felt invincible when Melbourne was by her side.

The back door snapped open and screeched on its hinges – a welcome new noise for Victoria from the clock in one corner of the room, Dash's snoring, and her own footsteps. She gave a toothy grin when Melbourne took a few steps onto the shop floor with his basket in hand. Only half of his shirt was tucked into his trousers, his greying hair had been given a blast of volume from the wind, and there was a dark, stubbly, shadow beginning to appear over his chin. He even had a little mud on shoes and grass stains on his jeans. Victoria found this, along with his breathless smile, charming. His chest heaved from his brisk walk and his tongue flicked across his bottom lip, which in another light, might well have been misconstrued as something more sensual and teasing. Victoria clenched her fists and toes, trying to ground herself out of fear that she would fling herself at him and kiss him until he was breathless for _other_ reasons.

“Do you need help with making up the bouquets?” Victoria asked, quickly glancing down at his basket, refusing to let her eyes hover anywhere else.

Melbourne nodded, handing Victoria his basket. “You can prepare those and I'll do the imported ones from upstairs,” he paused as he walked by her and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous, M! You're my friend and business partner – I'll do whatever I can to help.”

She sat behind Melbourne's counter to strip off some of the leaves and thorns from the flowers, trim the stems and sort them by flower type. Victoria barely winced whenever she pricked her finger. Melbourne did his selection of flowers with great speed, coming down with the completed flowers before Victoria had even finished half of hers. Years of the same line of work had made Melbourne's fingers nimble. He guided her until they were done then fashioned a few into bouquets, leaving some alone for made-to-order purchases. Melbourne made himself look smart but casual for opening.

There was a slow trickle of customers for the late morning opening, though, on a Sunday, Victoria and Melboure didn't find this to be wholly worrying. They rather enjoyed talking to their few customers on a more intimate basis; getting to know them, what they thought of the new combined shop, whether they had been to either shop before. Dash still followed Victoria wherever she went, eliciting much attention from the customers. They fussed him and smiled, they laughed delightedly when Victoria showed off a few tricks he could do; play dead, walk a few steps on his hind legs, spin around in circles, shake hands with people, and even bow. There was an extra aura of youthful innocence about Victoria that Melbourne soon became melancholy over. _George would almost be Victoria's age now if he were still here_ , Melbourne realised. He did not have time to mourn the idea.

“Cousins!” Victoria cried as Albert and Ernst came striding into the shop, both of them smartly dressed and in good spirits. “I didn't expect to see you both again so soon.”

Ernst took Victoria's hand delicately and kissed it. “We were exploring London but father and Uncle Leopold wanted us to drop by on our way.”

“How come?” Victoria wondered, offering Ernst and Albert a table.

Albert gave her a small smile. “They want you and Mr Melbourne to come for another dinner before we all head back to Germany.”

“I think they have a few things they want to discuss with you both,” Ernst added.

“Will you be joining us?” Melbourne asked from across the room. “The last dinner we all had was a real delight.”

Ernst grinned and laughed. “I'm never one to miss a party, Mr Melbourne.”

This was true. Victoria could not remember an instance in their youth where Ernst had turned down the invitation for a party, even when they were children he never turned down the excuse to celebrate. A party could never really be called a party when Ernst wasn't there – you've never experienced what a party really is without him. He had the ability to brighten any room, after any situation, in any situation. No one smiled as much as they did when Ernst was about and many party guests would leave to get some air, tears streaming down their faces and pain in their sides. Albert sometimes removed himself from parties as he felt uncomfortable in them, though, with Ernst there, he felt more confident. The attention was always on Ernst and his charm, not Albert. As children, Victoria enjoyed Ernst's company more than she ever did Albert's.

Victoria, being a year younger than Ernst, had looked up to him as they grew up and remembered the day a leaving party was thrown for Ernst, Albert, and Uncle Ernest when they moved back to Germany. They were only five years old (Enrst was six) and had spent their early childhoods together. Albert spent more time on his own, playing with his toys, reading his books, telling everyone to be quiet so he could concentrate. Ernst would go over to him and cheer him up before coming back and dancing to continue in the party spirit. Victoria tried to talk to Albert at times but was only told to 'go away, I don't want to play with you.' It had left the young Victoria feeling rather down and unwanted by her cousin. Victoria remembered how she put her little arms around Ernst, her fingers getting tangled in the back of his hair and kissed his cheek. Ernst had pulled away and wiped the kiss off, jokingly claiming that he didn't want 'girl germs' though he smiled and hugged her again, not willing to admit that he would miss her too, not even at six.

“How I have missed you, Ernst,” Victoria gushed, smiling so much her dimples seemed to press deeper into her skin.

“Everyone does,” Ernst said, smirking. He ordered a drink for himself and Albert, who had made his way to Melbourne's counter.

Albert carefully thumbed through the newest flowers and bouquets, considering them with a careful eye and a hum in the back of this nose and throat. He didn't know flowers like Melbourne did and they overwhelmed him in a flash of colour and sickly sweet, powdery scents. His brow was furrowed as he examined everything with a mind that didn't really know what it was looking for. Melbourne gave him a gentle smile, watching him explore until Albert gave up with a huff.

“Is everything okay?” Melbourne asked him. There was a softness to his voice.

“Flora very much liked her flowers yesterday,” Albert began to explain. “I think I would like to get her some more.”

Melbourne nodded, looking around at his own flowers, mentally trying to imagine the perfect bouquet for them. “Lucky girl.”

“I think that it is more I am a lucky man,” Albert told him. “They made her smile and I would love to see her smile like that again.”

“Who doesn't want to see a pretty girl smile?” Melbourne asked, smiling from the corner of his mouth.

“Exactly,” Albert said. “I knew you would understand, Mr Melbourne.”

“Oh, what a thing it is to be young and in love!” Ernst cried, throwing his arms in the air, teasing Albert despite the strange looks from a few of the other customers. The rest were too busy fussing Dash to notice. “My brother, my cousin – young and foolish with the purest of hearts! Mr Melbourne, young at heart with a girl young enough to be his daughter on his arm – his heart born anew! All the poetry in the world could not describe the love between these people here today.”

Albert rolled his eyes and Victoria put their drinks down at their table, smirking. “You're embarrassing yourself, Ernst,” she warned, still with the ghost of a smile haunting her face.

“What can I say? I love love!” he cried.

“And I am sure you will know love, too, someday,” Albert grinned. “A man will surely come along who loves to be dramatic just as much as you do.”

Ernst laughed. It was a deep laugh that came from the bottom of his chest – jolly and and warm. “I hope not. I couldn't bear it if he were just as dramatic as I am, or, God forbid, even more so! What would my image be then? I'd have to find a new identity.”

“We could never have that, could we, Cousin?” Victoria laughed too and kissed Ernst's head. “It would certainly be a tragic state of affairs for you to change so drastically.”

“Some would welcome it,” Albert pointed out. “Father especially.”

Melbourne felt a warmth inside of him that could only come from a happy, familial environment, one that he hadn't felt in a number of years, triggered by the two brothers and Victoria's teasing and joking. There was a time when there were three in Melbourne's family, then nearly four, then two...then one. The spectre of a perfect family followed Melbourne around like shackles around his ankles – so tight and close and yet it all fell apart at the last moment and slipped through his fingers like mist in winter. Melbourne felt as though he had lived his adult life in a series of almosts: he _almost_ had a successful marriage, he _almost_ had a daughter, he _almost_ had a family, he was _almost_ happy, his business _almost_ went under, Victoria _almost_ heard him say he loved her. He was glad that Victoria was too young for so many almosts, and if he were lucky enough to get to, he would make sure she never lived her life in almosts.

Melbourne watched her laugh with her cousins and bustle about the shop as he fashioned together a new bouquet – she almost seemed to be moving in slow motion as Melbourne's perception of time became distorted once more. All he could feel was the warm, comforting ball of joy in his chest and the stems of roses between his fingers.

“You know, Albert, Flora really does adore you,” Victoria told him. “She was texting me for most of the night about how much fun she's having with you.”

“I am having fun with her too,” Albert said, a blush creeping on his cheek. “She is very...enchanting.”

“She's a lovely woman,” Victoria agreed. “I think you two are awfully sweet. I think William and I could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Could we?” Melbourne asked, raising his eyebrows. “I thought we were the perfect couple.” He couldn't help giving an amused smile to Victoria.

“Trouble in paradise?” Ernst interjected.

“Never,” Victoria assured him. She made her way to Melbourne's counter and took the finished bouquet from him, planting a kiss on his cheek as she did so. She had to raise herself up on her tip-toes to do it, which Melbourne found delightful. Victoria added a few orchids to the bouquet before handing the whole bunch to Albert. “I hope Flora loves them as much as I do. They've become somewhat of a favourite.”

Albert hesitantly kissed Victoria's forehead in thanks, lingering there for less than a second. He and Ernst stayed to finish their drinks and left to continue exploring London for the first time since they were young. Victoria was in a state of euphoria for the rest of the day: smiling at everyone who entered their shop, laughing and joking, walking with a spring in her step and humming as she ground coffee beans. Just by being around her good energy, Melbourne could feel himself being thrust into a pleasant mood that he wished he could maintain forever.

As soon as the shop doors shut at five for the end of the working day, Victoria set about counting the cash in the tills as Melbourne cleaned up. She made a happy sound once she worked out the takings from over the weekend – it was far more than she ever expected on the first days of opening.

“I think we ought to go out and celebrate!” Victoria announced. “This weekend has been too good for us not to celebrate our achievements.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about we just go for a quiet drink or two? It could be fun.”

“Yeah...okay. I'd like that,” Melbourne said, smiling.

Victoria grinned and slid off of her chair to put their takings in a safe. “Perfect! It's a date.”

Melbourne's heart flipped in his chest at the last word and he wished for one of two things: that she had used the word with genuine intentions for them to go on a real date, or that she had used a different word completely so as not to get his hopes up. However, he thought that wasn't her fault – she could use whichever words she wanted to and he just needed to put up with his feelings. They cleaned and closed up quickly, Victoria linking her arm with Melbourne's as they walked down the street to the nearest pub.

It wasn't a fancy pub; it had peeling wallpaper in the corners and uneven, sticky floorboards. The tables wobbled and on the chairs were a few beer stains that just wouldn't budge. Only a few regulars sat on stools around the bar, watching the television and laughing together with wheezes and coughs. Melbourne sat at a table for two, ignoring how sticky the table top was, despite the streak marks over the surface from a cloth that had attempted to clean it. Victoria bought them a bottle of prosecco to celebrate with.

“To us,” she raised her glass, “and Espressaroma's first weekend. I can't wait to see where this takes us.”

Melbourne gently tapped his glass against Victoria's, grinning despite himself. He didn't usually drink prosecco and felt happier with a glass of whiskey in his hand. “It feels promising,” he assured her.

Victoria sipped at her drink, then sighed. “I wish my father were around to see me run this business with you.”

“Did he leave?” Melbourne wondered out-loud.

“He died when I was still a baby,” she said, running her fingertips over the rim of her glass. “It would've been nice to know him and for him to see what I've achieved.”

“I'm sure he would be extraordinarily proud of you,” Melbourne insisted with a tone of sympathy. “I know I am.”

Victoria reached out to touch Melbourne's hand. “You're always so kind to me, M. I'm very grateful...You'll never know how much you mean to me.”

Melbourne turned his hand to link their fingers together, gently rubbing his thumb against the back of Victoria's hand. “Maybe not, but I think I can imagine.”

Victoria looked down at their hands and used her free hand to touch her stomach, trying to see if she could feel the butterflies in her hands as well her tummy. He was always kind, there for her, willing to get involved in her outrageous schemes and plans...no one had ever been so patient with Victoria before. Even so, she occasionally found herself confused by Melbourne and his true feelings. One minute he was close to her, holding her hand or pressing a kiss to her head, even if it were only when they were pretending to be dating. Then he would be incredibly formal and distant. The soft words he'd say during their little love game often came out so genuine that for a second she would believe everything he said – there was that moment she believed that he did love her and he always had from the moment they met. She loved him and in those times during their love game, she would want to tell the truth. But for the time being, she was too afraid to say anything and she enjoyed their flirtations and closeness and didn't want to do anything that might disrupt their relationship as it was just yet.

They stayed in the pub until the street lights came on outside and the pub filled with more of the locals and regulars. Melbourne kept his hands in his pockets as they walked home, his arms too close to his torso for Victoria to link their arms together. She hugged him tightly before they parted ways to go to their flats, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Victoria didn't care about the strain in her calf muscles as she reached up. He was wearing his warm, heady aftershave again and she closed her eyes to revel in it for the moment they were embracing. His hand was in her hair and he ran his fingers through it as easily as if it were made of silk. Neither wanted to be the first to let go, but Melbourne made the first move away and went upstairs. Victoria went to her own flat a second later.

On the windowsill of Victoria's living room sat a rectangular crystal case which was filled with a number of Melbourne's flowers. She picked out a red rose that was almost in full bloom and threw herself on to the sofa, twisting the flower in her fingers and examining the petals as though the flower were an extension of herself. There was only one petal that wasn't perfect; an outside petal had a small patch of brown discolouration. With a delicate thumb and forefinger, Victoria plucked the petal away from its brothers and dropped it. Dash sniffed at it then jumped up on the sofa to be with her. Victoria plucked off another petal, muttering under her breath.

“He loves me, he loves me not...” she kept picking off the petals with every phrase, repeating it a few times. “Don't I sound ridiculous, Dash? I should ask him instead of leaving it to a silly game to tell me! He loves me, he loves me not.” There were only two petals left and Victoria sighed as she picked them off, saying a weak “he loves me not” as the last petal hit the floor.

Dash nuzzled Victoria's thigh, sensing that something was wrong.

“It really is a silly game, isn't it? It doesn't prove anything,” she told Dash. He nudged her leg again and Victoria stroked the top of his head. “You're right, Dash, I'll definitely ask M about how he really feels,” she said confidently. Victoria cuddled Dash closely and kissed him as she thought about how she might approach the subject with Melbourne. She let out a frustrated breath when she couldn't think of anything. “Well...I'll ask eventually.”


	7. Secrets and Lies (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama reveals a devastating secret and Victoria seeks comfort in Melbourne.

Business boomed for a week after opening _Espressaroma_. Customers couldn't get enough of the oddity of a shop that gave them coffee and flowers simultaneously and the friendly owners that always worked in harmony with one another. A few of the customers kept coming back for Dash, who liked to weave himself through the tables in an attempt to get the customers to play with him. The articles written by the journalists at opening had given them glowing recommendations, with a few photographs of Victoria and Melbourne during the opening, so this had gotten word out and brought in extra customers from slightly further afield who would not have otherwise heard of the shop. Victoria had the articles kept safely in a scrapbook – stuck down with glue and surrounded by stickers and doodles from glitter pens. Melbourne had laughed when he saw her working away at it on her living room floor with a cup of coffee on one side of her and a bowl of sweets on the other. Melbourne couldn't resist leaning over to steal a strawberry flavoured one as he danced around Victoria's scattered art equipment.

They decided that Wednesday would be their one day off to relax and spend their time doing other things they loved. Victoria filled her Wednesdays with her friends and pursuing art classes, whilst Melbourne stayed in his allotment for the majority of the time – he didn't have much else to do and, if he were still on his own, would choose to work every day. It wasn't a viable option now the shops were combined. Fridays were their delivery days for the next working week: coffee, syrups, food, milk, flowers, and anything else they needed.

As the second week of opening approached, there was an obvious decline in customers which left Victoria with a heavy heart. There was a moment where she suddenly became excited again, but her shoulders slouched down when she realised the couple wanted directions instead of coffee. She sat behind her till with her head in her hands, trying to think of a way to get out of her slump and have business running as it had been in the first week. Victoria tapped her long, baby pink nails on the counter top, barely disrupting the rhythm of her fingers as Dash jumped up on her lap to cheer her up.

Melbourne was far more used to slow business and this sudden dip in customers didn't phase him in the slightest. In fact, it was still busier now than his original shop had been when Victoria had turned up. Melbourne watched Victoria's little frown and tired eyes for about half an hour before going up to her to hand her a number of Shasta daisies.

“You look like you could use some sunshine,” Melbourne said, giving her a smile. “Have these.”

Victoria smiled back at him, taking the little bunch of daisies and sniffing them. “Thank you, M.”

“You're welcome.” He watched her begin to fasten the flowers together by the stems, her hands moving carefully and fingers making light work of the fiddly parts. Melbourne laughed, glad to see her doing anything else than sitting with her head in her hands. “Half of businesses fail in the first year,” he reminded her. “We're still fairly new and we have plenty of time to get this place packed out again.”

“I know...I think I'm going through a period of impatience since I'm used to the busy shop...and I keep thinking about my dad, too. What he'd be like, what he would say to me, what he would think of the shop. That kind of thing - it doesn't help.”

“Take tomorrow to do something relaxing and then you can come back on Thursday with a spring in your step,” Melbourne suggested.

Victoria nodded and quietly finished fashioning the daisies into a crown. She hesitated as she went to put it on her head, then subsequently decided to put it on Melbourne instead, laughing to herself. Melbourne stuck his tongue out at her as she tried to take a photo. It was blurry, but the image of her William in a crown of flowers made her smile and she couldn't resist making it her phone wallpaper later in the day. Melbourne quickly, but gently, put the crown on Victoria where it belonged. She handed him a few hair grips from her pocket so he could pin it into place for her.

“Flowers in your hair suits you,” he told her. “You look exquisite.”

Victoria seemed to perk up throughout the rest of the day. Dash was by her side, she owned a business, she had flowers in her hair, a blush on her cheeks, and she was in love. Once again Melbourne proved to be her Superman; as someone she could rely on to make her feel as though nothing could ever be wrong in life. The confidence in her vision of _Espressaroma_ had come back to her as though it had never left at all, all thanks to Melbourne's unique way of being able to make things right.

On Wednesday, Victoria decided to spend her day with Flora. They took an autumn stroll through the park, all bundled up in their coats and scarves, clutching takeaway mugs of coffee from _Espressaroma_ and laughing together. Flora talked endlessly about her dates with Albert which were always quite romantic and subdued – though she couldn't resist telling Victoria about how Albert kissed in great, sordid detail.

_If eyes were the window to the soul then the lips were a corridor to the mind_ , she said. Albert had thick, flushed lips that were swollen and trembled with want. Flora described his tongue as being silky and enticing and he kissed her so fervently that Flora felt she was under the influence of some kind of psychoactive drug and she had to fight for breath. _Then_ , Flora said, _there is his way with words_. One moment he could speak with softness and romance like a poet, the next, he could whisper seductive and dirty things into her ear which left Flora with goosebumps all over her soft frame.

Victoria cringed and wrinkled up her nose. “That's quite enough! This is my cousin you're talking about – I could certainly do without those images in my head.”

Flora grinned sheepishly, her face burning. “Sorry! I just think he's so unbelievably wonderful.”

“I'm glad you have found happiness, Flora.”

“You could have that too,” she told Victoria. “If you told a certain Mr Melbourne how you felt.”

Victoria gaped and lifted her chin in the air. “I have no idea what you're talking about,” she insisted, but still had a faint smile that didn't help convince Flora of that statement in the slightest.

“I can tell that you're smitten with him, Victoria,” Flora laughed. “Don't play innocent with me, wannabe Mrs Melbourne – I know where your heart lies.”

“And what makes you so sure?” Victoria challenged.

“Because I have eyes.”

Victoria laughed and sipped at her coffee. “My feelings for M are mine and I shall decide what to do with them, whenever I want to, if I should decide to do anything with them at all.”

“Don't let a good man go, Victoria, you'll regret it if you do.”

“Oh, look at you, Flora! You've been dating for a few weeks and you're already turning into a relationship counsellor,” Victoria said fondly.

“I'm only being honest! On another note, your mother stopped at mine during breakfast and wanted me to say she wants to see you about the farewell dinner for Ernst and your Uncle before they go back to Germany. I, for one, am thrilled that Albert has decided to stay in England.”

“I'm thrilled _for_ you,” Victoria said. “I'd better head over to see Mama and I'll phone you later, okay? Lovely to see you as ever, darling.” Victoria kissed Flora's cheek before walking back the way they came.

Mama lived in the heart of Notting Hill in a six bedroom house that she had bought when her children were young. There were enough rooms for each of her children to have a bedroom to themselves, one for herself, and still have two bedrooms spare for guests – which left plenty of opportunity to host a number of parties and dinners that spilled over into the next morning. Mama didn't have the heart to sell up and downgrade the house. It was decorated in whites, creams, and greys with large windows that glinted off of the marble table tops in the kitchen and bathrooms. Victoria ran up the stairs to the front door and slammed the knocker against the door three times. Her Mama answered moments later, all dressed up as though ready for a ball, but Victoria knew she had nowhere to go.

“Oh, 'Drina, it's you. Come on in.” She stepped away from the door to let her in. They settled in the living room with cups of tea. “I assume Flora has told you that Albert is staying?”

“Yes, Mama. He must be very taken with her not to return home with his brother.”

Mama nodded. “It's still a shame that you didn't give Albert a chance.”

“I'm glad that I didn't because he seems to have found true love with Flora,” Victoria protested. “I don't wish to talk about Albert any more - Flora said you wanted to talk to me about dinner.”

“Yes,” Mama said, putting down her teacup with a careful chink against the table. “We expect you there at your Uncle Leopold's next week, and I do believe your Uncles want to give you something for your troubles with this business of yours.”

Victoria tilted her head, curiosity taking hold of her. “Like what?”

“You'll have to come and find out because even I do not know...they are very proud of you, despite your rather unusual choice of this business,” Mama told her. “They saw the articles in the newspapers.”

There was a burst of happiness in Victoria's chest that quickly dissipated into sorrow. She looked to the floor and sighed. “That's nice but...I wish Dad were alive to see me succeed though. The pride of an uncle, no matter how many of them there are, is not the same as the pride of a father.”

Mama's eyes went wide and she shuffled in her seat, her throat felt dry no matter how many times she swallowed. She smacked her lips together and looked down into her cup of tea on the coffee table, noticing the sudden sweat on her palms. Mama laid her hands together so her daughter couldn't see them. Victoria very rarely spoke of her father.

“'Drina...there's something about your father that you do not know,” she said carefully, almost as though she were afraid of the words she were saying. “I think you are old enough to hear the truth.”

* * *

 Melbourne was watching the television – it was the news again. His curtains were closed like always and he was in the comfiest clothes he owned that weren't a pair of pyjamas – a pair of jeans with holes in them and a t-shirt that was fraying at the sleeves. The flat was much cleaner now, Victoria's influence being a positive one on him, and all of his papers were neatly filed away in ring binders on his desk in the living room. He'd even swept the floors and tidied his kitchen, but kept his bedroom his messy, private domain.

There was a furious knocking on the door that made him jump. It was continuous and loud and almost panicked. Melbourne got up as quickly as he was able – slipping on the newly cleaned floor in his socks. When he finally managed to open the door, Victoria was stood in front of him, looking smaller than ever before. Her face was barely recognisable since it was so puffy and red. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery with drooping eyelids, there was mascara running down her cheeks and all of her features seemed to be slumped down her face under the sheer weight of them. Upon seeing Melbourne, Victoria burst into tears again and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and mumbling inaudibly. Melbourne hugged her back and rocked her gently in an attempt to calm her.

He got her to the sofa and made her a cup of tea whilst she cried a little more. “Oh, M, I never want to see Mama again!” She rejected the tea and took Melbourne's glass of whiskey from the coffee table instead.

“Why on earth not?” he asked, sitting next to her with a box of tissues.

Victoria took one and blew her nose. She took another to wipe her eyes. “She's been lying to me my whole life!”

“About what?”

“About my father!” she cried.

Melbourne frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. “What about him?”

Victoria's eyes welled up once more. There was a combination of great sadness and ferocious anger built up inside of her and she wasn't sure which one would come out first, or which one she was supposed to feel. “He's alive.”

It was quiet for a moment as Melbourne let that piece of information sink in. “That's...good, isn't it?”

“No!” she cried again, almost snapping. “It's not good because my father isn't my father!”

Melbourne raised his eyebrows and squeezed her shoulder, shifting a little closer to her. “What do you mean?”

The anger took Victoria over and she screamed to let it out – it was suffocating her as she thought about it and screaming for just a second seemed to make it all better. “Mama had an affair...” it felt as though there were venom in her mouth. “John Conroy is my father,” she spat.

“How?!” Melbourne asked, just as shocked as she was.

“They've known each other for a long time...they've been on and off since they met. Mama was having an affair with him when she was married to – who I believed – was my father...”

“Does Conroy know you're his daughter?”

Victoria started crying again. “Yes! How can he be so cruel when he's always known that I was his?! He's despicable and I hate them both for lying to me and being so vicious! He will never be my father and I no longer think of her as my mother.”

Melbourne put his arm around Victoria properly. “I know it's not the same, but you did say you wanted your father to see you running your business...and technically, he has. I'd love for my son to see me succeed too, but that won't ever happen.”

“You're right,” Victoria barked. “It's not the same because Conroy is not my father, no matter what DNA might say!” She suddenly softened as the second half of Melbourne's sentence registered in her mind. She downed the rest of the whiskey and let it burn her chest as it went down her throat. “Your son? I never knew you were a father.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I used to be. George was very very ill from the day he was born – lots of complications, lots of stays in hospitals, operations - he died a few days before his tenth birthday. I'd love him to see me, and us, and our business, but that can't ever happen.”

Victoria sniffed, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for her outburst. “I'm so sorry...”

“It's okay...Caroline and I knew it would happen eventually. The thing is, Victoria, what I'm trying to get at here is that you have the opportunity to make things right with your mother and with Conroy, should you want to. If you want to, you can have a second chance at a family, but that's entirely your choice – I only want you to realise that the option is there for you.”

“I don't want to,” Victoria said decidedly. “They've lied to me all my life and I'm not sure I can ever face them again...They've broken my heart and made a mockery of me.”

Melbourne made a sympathetic noise and squeezed her. “Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow when we open the shop? It might give your mind something else to focus on.”

Victoria made a distressed noise, her shoulders slumping and fingers shaking. She shook her head, trying to hold back more tears. “No. I can't go down there and pretend like my world hasn't just fallen apart! It's too difficult...”

“I know,” he told her calmly. “I remember how I felt when George died and how numb I felt during the funeral...to top that off, the stress meant Caroline miscarried our daughter,” Melbourne said, his eyes lowering to his lap. “It drove a bigger wedge between us and she ended up having an affair. It was a very difficult time and I didn't want to get up and work. I descended into a deep depression,” he admitted. “I stayed in bed most of the time, I slept a lot more than I ever had before, I drank more, I couldn't eat, I couldn't gather the energy to tidy up or even shower or shave...It was like my life had just stopped. It was a vicious cycle and I thought about selling the shop because I just couldn't cope.”

“Really?” Victoria interrupted.

“Yes. But I needed the money that the shop gave me, plus my gardening gave me something to do when I did have the energy. I was barely getting a customer, but I stayed and I kept going despite how much I wanted to get in bed and stay there...” he paused and looked Victoria in the eyes. “I never thought I'd feel happy again, but then I became your business partner and your friend. You won't bring my son back or the daughter I never got to meet, but you gave me a reason to continue and you must do the same. Go down there tomorrow, smile and serve the customers without letting them now how hard it is to bear that smile.”

Victoria nodded and took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself, but the idea of carrying on when she was struggling still seemed like an impossible task. “You will be there to help,” she said, like she was trying to check if it were true.

“Of course I will,” he said, smiling. “I'll always be here to help.”

“Thank you for telling me all that...it really put things into perspective. Things can always be worse. I'll sleep on what Mama told me today and decide what to do from there. I'll feel better tomorrow,” she promised.

Melbourne shrugged a shoulder easily. “Even if you don't feel better, I'll be here to help.”

Victoria sniffed and caught Melbourne's eyes. They were a warm, dark colour like hot chocolate on rainy days - she wasn't sure now if the warmth in her chest was coming from Melbourne or the whiskey. “You're so wonderful. It's appalling that Caroline would cheat on you and leave you – I would never do that to you.” She glanced down to Melbourne's lips, her thoughts, feelings, and better judgement all mixed up and confused.

“I'm sure you wouldn't,” Melbourne agreed, dropping his arm from her shoulders to squeeze Victoria's hand instead. He traced shapes with his index finger along the back of it. Talking about George had reminded Melbourne of how whenever George was distressed, he just needed to trace patterns on his hands and arms to relax him again – the repetitive motions were something that was very calming for George. Melbourne imagined that it would be the same for Victoria too.

There was a moment of quiet as they let the emotions they had shared settle like sand after a storm, but Victoria's got the better of her. Her love for Melbourne, her confusion over her mother's admission, her appreciation for Melbourne's comfort, the whiskey, all seemed too much and she didn't stop to think. Victoria wanted Melbourne and she wanted him right this moment since she had waited for long enough. She lunged forward to kiss him, feeling her heart beating in her ears and a strange, uncertain confidence in herself. It was not how she imagined their first kiss – sloppy, with him in comfy clothes and with her covered in mascara and tears, both of them high with emotion – but Victoria decided to take what she could get. She didn't think that Melbourne would ever make the first move, so this was the only way for them to further their friendship. Victoria decided that she needed to take action and she needed to take it now. The butterflies living in her stomach fluttered harder than ever before, anticipating their first kiss – the one that would change their relationship forever.

However, her lips did not meet their target and she fell against Melbourne's shoulder. He was sitting further back in the sofa with his eyes closed and his arms out-stretched against her shoulders, keeping her firmly at that distance.

“No,” he muttered. “You're upset and tired. I think you should go home and get some rest.” He couldn't open his eyes to see her reaction. She was vulnerable and he so wanted to kiss her, to make her feel better, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. What if she had tried to kiss him only because she was upset and confused? He didn't want her to regret anything. Kissing Victoria right now would feel too much like taking advantage of that vulnerability – and he could never do that to any woman.

Victoria felt her world crash around her for a second time that day. The man she hated was her father and now the man she loved had rejected her, and she wasn't sure how to feel now – her body was heavy with nothingness. She could barely feel her legs raise her body from the sofa or her hands smooth out her clothes – but she could feel the tears pricking in her eyes. Victoria mentally forbade herself from crying in front of Melbourne again.

“Oh,” she said simply. She took a moment to get the strength in her body and voice back, with the aim of keeping herself together until she reached her own flat. “I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Mr Melbourne.”

Victoria walked away with her head held high, her breathing controlled, and didn't dare look back at Melbourne. Her newest emotions stayed cooped up inside of her until she was safely caged in her own flat where she collapsed to the floor, leaning against her front door. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed until her body ached.


	8. Electricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria spends time with her friends after yesterday's revelations and finds a new way to relieve some tension with one friend in particular.

There was an eerie stillness to the dawn with the promise of October around the corner. The clouds hanging low over London were filled to bursting with the rain, keeping the city shrouded in darkness like a post-apocalyptic morning. Trees were losing their leaves one by one; they turned from green to orange then broke away from the branch with the gentlest of winds. The occasional person walked across the street on their way to work – briefcases and bags in hand and coat collars turned up against the wind that was beginning to blow. The rain seemed to start one bead at a time, hitting the window on their way down. Victoria watched two drops drip down the glass and meet before sliding down together much faster and pooling at the bottom of the outside windowsill. The clouds kept spitting at the pavement, making the public run to shelter or put up their umbrellas – a few unprepared for the weather held their scarves or bags over their heads. One woman ran across the road in her red heels, holding a black folder over her head and Victoria could hear the clack of her shoes from her bedroom.

A flash ripped through the air so fast that Victoria almost missed it. It was followed by a quiet rumble rolling over the sky and ferocious rain. The water fell so fast that it felt like golf balls were hitting the side of the building as the sounds echoed against the window. Another flash of light and another rumble of thunder made Dash whimper and whine. He jumped at Victoria who picked him up and kissed his head. Dash trembled in her arms as more cracks of thunder hit London. There was something very soothing about the thunderstorm for Victoria.

She came away from the window to look in her bedroom mirror. Her hair stuck up in all directions, tangled from where she had been sobbing into her pillow for most of the night. The mascara had stained her cheeks and pillow alike and her eyes felt stiff and stale. She still couldn't manage a smile, no matter how many times she practiced it in the mirror. Her mouth was stuck fast in a mildly drooped position. She took Dash into the bathroom with her, away from the thunderstorm, as she scrubbed at her face. Her cheeks went from black to red. Victoria lost time as she brushed her teeth; her eyes wouldn't focus on the image of herself in the mirror, she could barely hear the storm brewing beyond the walls. She must have been brushing for five minutes before a louder crack of thunder brought her back to herself. Victoria spat the toothpaste into the sink, making it splatter all across the bowl. Next, she brushed through her hair to get the tangles out before she got into the shower. The water was just bridging on being too hot to withstand, but Victoria's iron veins and ivory skin stood firm against it – it bounced off of Victoria's small body like the rain against the window. The steam soothed her raw throat and moistened the skin under her eyes which made her feel fresher and ready to fight the day with a brave face.

The shop floor was in darkness except for when the flashes outside illuminated everything inside for a second. Victoria turned on the shop's lights – they flickered for a brief moment before staying on and glowing brighter. She turned the sign on the door from “Closed” to “Open.” Mr Melbourne was nowhere to be seen. Victoria checked the time. 9:02am. It was still storming outside and Dash had hidden himself behind the counter with his little blanket, whimpering and begging for Victoria to come back to him. She sat at a table, trying to coax him over for a cuddle.

Where was Mr Melbourne? He could be catching his death out in those wild winds and torrential downpours! He could be catch a chill and come down with hypothermia – all alone in his allotment – sick and unconscious in the saturated earth and hidden underneath the sheet of water that was coming from the sky. More lightning tore through the sky, followed by a crash of thunder. The time between light and sound was beginning to get shorter. A stroke of lightning could have hit a tree and obliterated it. What if that had happened and Mr Melbourne was trapped underneath the flying wood, unable to lift it off himself? What if a branch had collapsed and hit him over the head, once again leaving him unconscious? He might have been directly hit by the lightning himself. Victoria's mind raced through every scenario possible and she held Dash closer to her like her own kind of security blanket. Somehow she couldn't get the idea of Mr Melbourne dying in the thunderstorm in some freak accident out of her head, and she wasn't sure what she would do if it did happen. She knew her grief would be indescribable and she knew her heart would never be the same. She knew her eyes would weep every day after and she knew she would never really be able to accept it. What she didn't know was what she would do with the business. She didn't know what she would do with herself in the event of Mr Melbourne's death. Now he was in her life, Victoria couldn't imagine a life without him. She suddenly found her cheeks were wet.

A squeak from the door across the shop made Victoria jump in her seat. She swung around to look, her hair whipping the side of her neck and her heart leaping into her throat. Mr Melbourne stood in the doorway looking a touch dishevelled in black trousers, a creased shirt with a skewed collar and hair that stuck up in the back. Victoria rose to her feet quickly, giving him a relieved smile. She could feel her heartbeat beginning to slow.

“Oh, Mr Melbourne, you're here!” she exclaimed. Dash jumped out of her arms and ran to Melbourne. He sniffed around his feet. Victoria subtly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Melbourne let out a short, baffled laugh. “Where else would I be?”

Victoria opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by another burst of lightning, quickly followed by another roar of thunder that seemed to last an age as it rolled over the top of them. It made the windows in the shop rattle and Victoria could feel the vibrations in her bones. It made her gasp and jump back.

“Are you okay?” Melbourne asked, stepping forward to touch her shoulder. “You're not scared of thunder and lightning as well as rats, are you?”

She shook her head and held a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating against her breastbone, and smiled breathlessly. “Not at all. That one startled me, that's all.”

“The wind is blowing it closer,” Melbourne said, going to look out the window. “With any luck, the storm will blow right over us and move away.”

“Let's hope so,” Victoria sighed and crouched to the ground to stroke Dash. “You're late for work, by the way.”

Melbourne gave her an apologetic smile. “I overslept, but the thunder woke me eventually.”

“I'm glad you weren't out there on your allotment,” Victoria admitted. “The idea of you in a storm like this on your own is too much to bear.”

“I think I'm old enough to handle myself.”

When the next bolt of lightning hit, it was clearly visible in the sky like someone had ripped a dark piece of silk in two. When the lightning went away, the shop was plunged into darkness as the lights blinked off. The mugs behind the till clattered together as the thunder boomed over the shop and came to a stop after ten seconds. Melbourne went to flick the lights off then on again, but they didn't do anything at all. He sighed and put his hands on his hips.

“Looks like the power's gone. The batteries in the tills will keep those working for now, but your coffee machines won't work,” he told Victoria.

She frowned at the floor. “Should we close the shop for the day?”

“Let's wait until the batteries in the tills go before we shut – we can still sell the flowers.”

Victoria sat in front of her counter with her little legs outstretched, which made the excess material on her jeans bunch up around her knees. Dash immediately took this as an invitation to lay down over her legs as more thunder and lightning raged on outside - she could feel her loyal companion shaking on her. Victoria made a sympathetic sound and stroked him. She moved her hand slowly down his fur, keeping her head bowed to be close to Dash and made calming noises at him. Melbourne watched her with a fond smile before he joined her on the floor and reached out to scratch Dash's head. There was a moment of soft quiet between the two of them, despite the sounds seething outside. The rain water was beginning to overflow in the drains outside.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Melbourne asked tentatively, not sure if he should've said anything at all.

She nodded, not looking at Melbourne as her mind started to replay all that happened. “Better, I think. I feel a bit strange.”

“Really?”

“I'm not sad as such,” she said with a sigh. “I'm not angry either...I feel rather peculiar and confused. All of a sudden my strong emotions are non-existent.”

“Perhaps you have that numb feeling I told you about?” Melbourne suggested.

Victoria nodded slowly. “Perhaps...” she thought about how she tried to kiss Melbourne last night and cringed at her own stupidity. No matter how embarrassed she was, she needed to tell the truth. “Look, about last night...”

Melbourne waved a hand. “It's forgotten about.”

She frowned and sat up straight. “No, you don't understand...”

“It's okay – I know there were emotions everywhere. It doesn't matter.”

“But it does!” she insisted, trying to talk over the thunder and the rain. “I tried to kiss you because I lo-”

The shop door opened and a man in a long coat rushed inside. The rain managed to splash inside the shop to leave a little puddle by the door which was made bigger by the drips coming off of the man. His woolen coat was saturated, despite the fact he had an umbrella that he was trying to put down, but the wind had bent the umbrella spokes in all directions. When he had finally wrestled the umbrella down, he rest it against the door, letting the drips join the puddle. He took off his coat to reveal his drenched clothes and turned, looking miserable. It was Albert. Albert looked around before noticing that Melbourne and Victoria were huddled together on the floor and laughed at them.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked.

Victoria shook her head, but she wanted to tell him to go away. “Not at all,” she said instead. “Go on up to my flat and get yourself dry. There's some clean towels hanging up in the bathroom.”

Albert smiled and went upstairs. Melbourne got up to dry the floor, looking out of the window to see the storm.

“I think it's starting to die down. There's more time between each bit of thunder and lightning. I can even see some blue sky in the distance,” he said, grinning. “Sorry, what were you going to say?”

Victoria sighed and scratched Dash behind the ears. “It doesn't matter. It can wait...I'd better go up and check Albert's okay.” She stood to walk up the stairs, Dash not far behind her on the floor now.

Albert was drying his hair in the bathroom, squinting at himself in the mirror where he wasn't happy with how his hair looked. His moustache seemed to be pressed up against his nose as he squeezed the last of the water from his hair. There was another towel draped around his shoulders and he was visibly shivering beneath it. A pang of guilt waved through Victoria as she watched him – she was dry and warm where Albert was cold and wet with red, frigid cheeks. His hands shook and they were bright pink where the blood had rushed to them to keep them warm.

“I'd offer you a cup of tea but the electricity has gone out. I think it's probably happened to the whole street.”

“It's quite alright,” Albert insisted. “I'll warm up soon enough.”

Victoria nodded. “What do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“Flora told me what happened with your mother,” he said, looking at Victoria through the mirror. “Is it true that John Conroy is your father?”

“Unfortunately,” she said, her jaw tensing. “I'm not sure I could ever forgive Mama for what she has done.” A lump began to form in her throat. “They've both been so unbelievably cruel.”

“I'm sure your mother had good reason for keeping the truth from you,” Albert told her, trying to comfort her, but deep down he knew it would take more than a few cheap words to make all seem right again.

Victoria clenched her fists and ground her teeth together. “Even if she did, she didn't have good reason to let him bully me, especially since he knew I was his child! He picked on me and laughed at me for being short and she laughed with him. He called me horrible names and she agreed with him. She always thought about Conroy's feelings first and then mine...she has allowed my biological father to bully me ever since I was young and I can't forgive them. They have pushed me too far now, and I am not inclined to be kind or forgiving.”

Albert chewed the inside of his cheek, clearly unsure what to say now and spotted the tears that were welling up in Victoria's eyes. “I'm very sorry you've gone through all that...but you have your Mr Melbourne,” he pointed out. “Flora and I will also be here to help you if you are struggling.”

“ _My_ Mr Melbourne,” Victoria repeated, the words made her feel sick as the truth didn't quite match up to them. She burst into tears and took some toilet paper from the roll to wipe at her eyes.

It didn't take long for Victoria to stop crying and Albert waited for her, hanging his hair towel over the radiator. “Has something happened between you and Mr Melbourne?”

“It's complicated,” she laughed, wiping her nose. “I'm fine, honestly, I'm being ridiculous. It's just a matter of being a little fragile after what I was told yesterday.”

Albert reached out to touch Victoria's shoulder. His slender fingers wrapped around her tightly and squeezed. “I know we haven't always gotten on, but I like to think we are now friends.”

Victoria laughed and put her hand on his. “Of course we are.”

“Then as your cousin and your friend, I want you to know that I am on your side. What ever happens, how ever you are feeling, I am here. Your mother shouldn't have done what she did.”

Victoria painted on a smile, touched by Albert's words. The previous distance between them both seemed suddenly bridged together with cement and heavy bricks. Surely nothing could break down this bridge now? Victoria could see that Albert was still damp but she didn't care – she wrapped her arms around him in thanks. She relaxed as Albert firmly held her, feeling the cold of his damp shirt against her cheek.

“Flora is a lucky girl,” Victoria told him with great sincerity.

Albert let go of her to continue drying himself. He gave a cheeky smile in the mirror. “Is somebody jealous?”

Victoria snorted. “In your dreams.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Albert asked, watching Victoria lean against the door frame.

“Of course you can.”

Albert took a deep breath through his nose, smiling goofily. “I know we haven't been dating for long but I think Flora might be _The One_.”

“Really?” Victoria couldn't quite hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yes. I love her quite deeply and I can't imagine my life without her,” he admitted. “I think I'd like to make her my wife.”

Victoria let out a noise that was half excited and half shocked. “You know this so soon?”

“Absolutely. When you know someone is your soulmate, then you know. It doesn't matter how long you have been together. I'm sure you've had similar feelings about Mr Melbourne.”

This caught Victoria off guard. She hadn't even had the opportunity to tell Melbourne that she loved him, let alone think about marriage! Of course her family thought she had been dating him for weeks, if not months, so naturally they were taking things a step further. They wouldn't be her family if they weren't being nosy.

“Of course,” she said, unsure what else to say. “I'm very happy for you both.”

“I still need to find a ring and find the right time to ask yet,” he reminded Victoria. “But I have a good feeling about it all.”

When they returned downstairs, Melbourne was brushing the excess water out of the shop now the rain was slowing and the storm seemed to have been blown away by the wind. Melbourne gave them a smile as they came through to the shop floor. The power was still out as Victoria tried to switch the lights on again.

“Still nothing,” she pouted.

“I'll sort it out later,” Melbourne said. “I'll have a look at the fuse box.”

“Why don't we go out?” Albert suggested. “If the power is out then we might as well go and do something else, plus 'Drina needs cheering up. We can go and do something fun.”

It didn't take much more convincing from Albert. Melbourne and Victoria rushed away to grab their coats since the weather was certainly better than it had been an hour ago and the drains were recovering, letting the rain water wash away (even so, Victoria swapped her black brogue shoes for pink welly boots.) There was still a distant sound of thunder as they walked down the street, all of them with their hands thrust inside of their pockets and collars turned up, just in case.

They began by browsing through the South Bank Book Market with both Melbourne and Albert talking quickly about all kinds of books that Victoria had never heard of. They walked down the aisles of tables together, bonding through their shared interests in history and politics; giving book recommendations to one another and making history jokes. Victoria followed them a few steps behind, smiling at them and feeling a warm sensation in her chest. Maybe things weren't perfect, but she had a cousin and friend who would always stand by her, and a business partner and friend whom she loved deeply, and they both seemed to be making fast friends. Victoria walked along the aisles, brushing her fingertips over the books, feeling the battered hardback covers, the soft paperbacks, and their well-loved pages. The comforting smell of books and rain was in the air. They spent over an hour at the book market where Albert left with three new books and Melbourne left with a whole bag, a big smile plastered over his face, showing off his slightly coffee and cigarette stained teeth.

Victoria linked her arm with Melbourne's. “Haven't you got enough books?”

“If there's one thing you can't have enough of, it's books,” he told her, laughing.

“You tell that to your desk or your living room floor,” Victoria teased, squeezing his arm. Albert snorted.

As they walked, they gathered more ideas on what they should do next. Bowling and lunch seemed to be the favourite so Albert called Flora to invite her to join them. She found them at their lane, rushing over in her dress and coat, her handbag in one hand and her bowling shoes in the other. Flora beamed when she saw Albert and kissed him immediately. He had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist and gently ran his thumb across her side. Victoria watched their gentle shows of affection, their slow movement with one another, and how they whispered in each other's ears. Victoria looked over to Melbourne who was sat on his seat and caressing a bottle of beer. She rolled her eyes and typed everyone's names into the bowling screen.

The bowling lane was in darkness except for the dim lights that surrounded the alleys from the screens and the surrounding other games. Some flashed slowly, some lights were burnt out completely and it took a while for Victoria's eyes to get used to it. The music was just a little too loud, so the sounds of bowling balls hitting pins and crashing into lanes could barely be heard over the sound of it. Whenever Albert bowled, no matter his score, Flora jumped up and down, clapping and cheering. No one was a bigger fan of Albert than Flora was. She hugged him and kissed him and told him how well he was doing. It made Victoria feel a little sick, actually.

A server came over with lunch for the four of them – a sharing platter of nachos. They took a break from their game to eat and drink but it didn't stop Flora and Albert from being nauseatingly sweet with one another. At one point Flora was sitting in Albert's lap, feeding him the occasional nacho. When Victoria looked to Melbourne, he seemed as tired by their lovey-dovey displays as much as she was. Ever since the breakdown of his marriage Melbourne was more cynical towards relationships and had very little patience for public displays of affection. He downed his beer in a few large gulps, looking at Victoria out of the corner of his eye. Both of them smiled at one another, quickly darting their eyes between each other and Flora and Albert, trying not to laugh.

“Get a room you two,” Victoria said eventually, smiling despite herself.

Flora and Albert looked at Victoria and Melbourne sheepishly. “Sorry! We're all couples here, we didn't think you'd mind,” Flora said, grinning.

Victoria glared at her because Flora knew that Victoria and Melbourne weren't really together, but she enjoyed pretending just as much as Victoria did herself.

“We should double-date more often,” Albert suggested. “Especially since I plan on sticking around for quite some time.”

Flora's eyes lit up. “That sounds marvellous! What a brilliant idea, Sausage, we should definitely all get together for dates more often.” Flora glanced at Victoria and Melbourne, mentally willing both of them to hurry up and tell one another how they felt.

Victoria put her arm around Melbourne's shoulder hesitantly. “Brilliant,” she agreed, looking up at Melbourne, silently pleading that he go along with the game still, despite what had happened the night before.

“Yes,” Melbourne said quickly. “Wonderful.”

The rest of the bowling trip went on in a fun, but vaguely uneventful way. They drank some more, ate some more, laughed some more, they even teased each other more. The heavy weight of Victoria's world seemed lighter on her shoulders as she surrounded herself with people she loved and people who loved her back in one way or another. Victoria found that she didn't need her Mama or John Conroy, not when the three others here with her were her family. Victoria felt she should've known this from the beginning – when Mama and Conroy were cruel, Flora was there to pick her up and help her to rebuild her confidence. Albert had already proved himself to be more than just the aloof, rude cousin she always thought him to be once today. Then there was Melbourne. He was always so perfectly...Melbourne.

Flora laughed when she saw Victoria's vacant smile as their bowling game ended. “What's the matter with you? Did losing to me shock you?” she teased.

“Not at all,” Victoria insisted, coming back to her surroundings. “Let's go to a pub and celebrate – drinks are on me!”

Albert grinned. “What are we celebrating?”

“I'll decide when we get there,” Victoria said breezily, linking her arm with Melbourne's and walking away from their bowling alley.

The sky was far calmer than it had been that morning with blue stretching for miles and wispy candyfloss clouds hanging high. The streets and roads were still sopping wet and car tyres sprayed the settled rain water up against their ankles as the group walked. Victoria's welly boots squelched with every step. They didn't have far to walk to get to the pub, much to the delight of everyone so they could get back to the warmth of inside.

Time seemed to fly by and darkness descended outside of the pub window before anyone even realised it. Albert noticed the night first; his watch beeped midnight and Flora almost slipped off her stool when he moved his arm to look, her head falling at an alarming rate towards the floor. She managed to sit herself upright as the others went into a fit of drunken giggles. Albert sighed regretfully, carefully standing on his long, unsteady legs, leaning on the table to aid him in doing so.

“It's time we went home,” he slurred and touched Flora's shoulder. “It was nice to see you 'Drina, Mr Melbourne.”

Flora nodded and kissed Victoria and Melbourne goodbye. “Lovely! See you soon.”

There was quiet between Victoria and Melbourne for a moment as they both finished their drinks. Victoria ran her index finger around the rim of her empty glass of vodka and coke, trying to go deep into thought but she kept getting fought off by the vodka in her head. She let her eyes drift up to Melbourne's weathered, stubbled face and felt her heart try to bust out of her chest. The sound was muffled by her jumper. Melbourne's eyes were red and tired and he kept licking his bottom lip, tasting the whiskey that had seeped into the cracks in his lips.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, noticing Victoria's gaze from the corner of his eye.

Victoria sat upright quickly, making her eyes lose focus. She blinked furiously in an attempt to get her blurred vision back to normal. “No, not at all...I think you're handsome, that's all.”

Melbourne raised his eyebrows, surprised. “You do?”

“Why else do you think I tried to kiss you last night?” Victoria asked, the alcohol making her bold.

“Because you were upset and confused,” Melbourne said, like it was obvious.

Victoria shifted a little closer in her chair, brushing her fingers along Melbourne's forearm. She took a deep breath and smiled nervously. “Do you mind that I tried to kiss you?”

Melbourne shook his head after a moment of staring into Victoria's hopeful, love-filled eyes. “No...I would have let you if you hadn't been so vulnerable.”

“Would you let me kiss you now?” Victoria breathed, glancing back down at Melbourne's lips.

“You've been drinking,” Melbourne said firmly.

Victoria pouted and squeezed Melbourne's arm, inching even closer. “I'm sober enough to know I want to kiss you.”

Melbourne nodded slowly, suppressing a bout of laughter. “I'm probably drunk enough to let you.”

“Would you let me if we hadn't been drinking?” Victoria asked. She held her breath after letting the words leave her mouth, but it only made her heart beat louder and her throat feel dry.

“Yes,” he admitted, looking down. He didn't want to see Victoria's reaction, mostly because he was afraid of it. She had been drinking and she might not mean what she had said, hell, Victoria might not even remember him saying he'd want her to kiss him in the morning.

Only a second ticked by but it felt like an entire lifetime had passed by them. It was a simple word but one that took far longer to register in Victoria's head than it otherwise should have done – it was almost like she had forgotten what the word _yes_ meant. When it finally clicked in her head, she leaned forward a little hesitantly until hers and Melbourne's noses brushed together and she could smell his spirit breath. They didn't dare press their lips together – not yet. They both revelled in the electric sparks that kept hitting them in the chest and coursed through their veins every time they moved even an inch. The excitement and fear of the thunderstorm that morning had came back in full force between them as Victoria couldn't resist any longer. She eagerly pushed their lips together. Her heart seemed to stop in the moment of that first kiss.

Victoria pulled away quickly, suddenly shy. Neither she or Melbourne said a word – no words needed to be said. They looked at one another, still feeling the electricity surging through them and drawing them together like magnets. They raised themselves a few millimeters off their seats with their lips colliding again with reckless abandon and Victoria's hands gripping to Melbourne's shirt like a vice. Melbourne had a hand placed firmly on the small of Victoria's back, drawing her close to him.

She pulled away again after a moment, hearing people wolf-whistle at them and yelling things that were indistinguishable. They laughed together, a little disbelieving of what had happened, but still eager to be kissing one another, touching one another, and ignoring the rest of the world. Victoria took Melbourne's hand and almost dragged him out of the old, decaying building, hailing down a taxi. They bundled in with all their coats and bags, keeping close to each other with their fingers intertwined and occasionally kissing in the backseat of the car.

Melbourne fumbled putting the key in the lock when they got back to the shop, but managed it on the second attempt. Victoria immediately kissed him with greater force than she had before, pushing Melbourne against the wall which made one of the paintings fall from its hook – goosebumps were appearing on Victoria's delicate skin and tiny pleased noises escaped from her lips when they weren't on Melbourne's own. The two bodies stumbled their way up the stairs to Victoria's flat, bashing into more walls as they went, slipping on the steps, and pulling at one another's clothing. They crashed through the door with fingers in hair and shirts hanging off their eager frames. Their chests rose and fell deeply and they could feel their rib-cages expanding against each other, their breaths on one another's skin. They were kissing one another so furiously and carelessly that Victoria thought her lips might turn purple and tender.

When Melbourne broke away to breathe, Victoria made a desperate wanting noise and her fingers curled into his shirt as she tried to tear the rest of it from his body. She made a triumphant noise when it finally slipped off his arm and hit the floor. Melbourne lifted her off of the floor by her waist, with Victoria muttering _'bedroom'_ into his ear, then kissed Melbourne's neck as he carefully and quickly found Victoria's bedroom. She shut the door, sealing them inside with a sharp kick of her foot.


	9. Heart of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Melbourne's relationship takes another step forward and Uncle Leopold has a gift for them, whilst Albert and Flora have news of their own.

Victoria was barely awake but she could feel the gentle pressure of the soft, fluffy duvet brushing her against her smooth, warm skin. When she moved her legs they slid across the bed-sheet like a marble on ice, but she quickly realised her toes were sticking out of the end of the duvet and going a little pink. She brought her legs up and smiled as warmth began to seep into them once more. Everything was quiet. Not even birds could be heard singing their morning song outside, there were no footsteps in the flat next to hers and no footsteps on the pavement outside, but Victoria didn't care. She was too warm, too sleepy, too blissful to care about the presence, or absence, of the world outside of her bed. Sleep particles scratched the corner of her eyes so she lifted a tired hand to wipe it all away, allowing herself to slowly wake up, but winced at the bright, white sunlight as it streamed through the window and hit her face. Her mismatched underwear was thrown across the bedroom floor and a man's pair of black, oxford shoes were neatly paired together by the door with the toes pressing against the skirting board. Her pink welly boots with the bows on the side were also thrown at opposite ends of the bedroom with her underwear. The sight of the man's shoes made Victoria grin like a Cheshire cat as the memories of last night came back to her in fragments – the touches of thighs and lips, hot breath on bare skin, hands wrapped in hair, and moans in made into one another's ears.

“Good morning, Handsome,” Victoria said, her voice was raspy with the morning and she was smiling still with her eyes half closed, trying to shield herself from the light. She rolled over to put her arm across M's body, to pull herself closer to him, but she carried on rolling and her arm hit the mattress. Victoria's smile dropped and she forced herself to open her eyes and look at the empty space in her bed.

She stared at the creased sheets for a moment with a frown, her thick dark eyebrows furrowed together trying to work out where M had gone. Victoria felt her heart sink at the idea that he didn't want to stick around after their night together and a gentle creeping of anger in her torso. She sat up in the bed, keeping her bed covers covering her body so she didn't subject her bare skin to the cold autumn weather. She took her eyes to M's shoes again – he couldn't have left without his shoes.

Victoria swung her legs over the side of the bed until her toes touched the floor before flinging herself up to grab her dressing gown from the back of the door. She felt something uncomfortable stuck on the back of her thigh and reached over to pick off the condom wrapper that had made its home on her leg and discarded it in the bin in the kitchen. It had left an indentation on her skin. She poured herself some cereal and used the last of the milk, leaving the bottle on the kitchen table. After that she took a shower, fed Dash, then pulled on a peach coloured dress ready for work – work! Victoria scrambled for her phone to check the time and date to find it was quarter past ten on Friday. Delivery day! She lunged out to her front door, feeling her fingertips brush on the cold metal before wrapping her fingers around it and pulled it open, keeping her eyes fixed to the stairs so she didn't trip, only to find herself running straight into M. He grabbed her shoulders, keeping her steady as she began to wobble backwards.

Melbourne looked as though he hadn't been awake long either – he was wearing yesterday's clothes minus his shoes, his hair was a mess and his eyelids drooped with exhaustion and lack of caffeine. His toes wiggled when Victoria's eyes lingered over his feet.

“I didn't want you to think I left like it was some meaningless one-night stand,” he explained, looking down at his feet too. “I wanted you to know that I was coming back.”

Victoria smiled, touched. “That's actually very sweet.”

“I only went away to do the delivery,” there were nerves in Melbourne's voice for one reason or another and he tried to shake them away. “I checked the fuse box too, I think we can continue trading today.”

Victoria grinned at him, looking him up and down in his 24-hour-old clothes and naked feet. “You ought to make yourself look business ready then.”

There was a moment of hesitation where they kept stepping in the same direction on the stairs in an attempt to avoid one another. Melbourne laughed and held Victoria's shoulders again, planting her firmly to the floor for a brief moment. He passed her easily on the stairs, kissing her cheek as he went, but he didn't get far as Victoria grabbed his wrist so she could quickly jump up on the step that was between them so she could kiss him properly – a quick, sweet, hesitant kiss – before she ran back down the stairs. Melbourne watched her run with her skirt puffing up and her hair floating behind her, so small and sweet like some fairly girl. He smiled even broader when she turned to look at him with those large almond eyes of hers, smiling too and motioning for him to hurry up before turning the corner and calling for Dash, who had gotten caught behind Melbourne on the stairs.

* * *

October crept into London the next week with barely a sound. The air was mild and inviting for the most part, but the crisper days were embraced with open arms, sealed windows, and tangled limbs under duvets. Melbourne's bed and flat had been abandoned for the week except for when he needed more clothes, but his toiletries, a number of his books and newspapers, and even a few of his own mugs had somehow migrated to Victoria's flat where he was spending his nights sleeping and _not sleeping_ in equal measure. There was something rather special about being sheltered from the autumn breeze by a thick duvet and the warm body and smile of a woman he loved and adored pressed up against him. It was though there was magic at his fingertips as he ran them across Victoria's bare skin, resting his hand on the soft, fleshy curve of her waist and kissing her shoulder, brushing her hair off of her neck which resulted in it tickling her breast. Her sleepy, euphoric giggles made Melbourne's heart soar. It had been far too long since he had let himself love and be loved, by someone else and by himself, too.

* * *

 Saturday morning saw Victoria's soul become an anxious one as the farewell dinner loomed that evening. Between serving customers, she sat on her stool, swinging her legs with Dash dutifully sat by her as she bit her nails, clearly trying not to think about her Mama and John Conroy. Melbourne quickly distracted her mind and her fingers by making her put together a bouquet for Mr Stewart whilst he familiarised himself with the coffee machines.

“Everything will be okay,” Melbourne whispered to her as they swapped counters. She believed him, of course. It was hard not to when he spoke so confidently, like he knew everything there was to know, and looking into his eyes made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. Victoria had not known Melbourne to be wrong so far and she wouldn't start doubting him and his gentle words of comfort now.

They closed up early so they could get ready for dinner, and Victoria set about counting the money in the tills with a frown whilst Melbourne cleaned the tables and mopped the floor. She sighed as she put the money in the safe, noting down how much they earned that day in her little black book which was thrown into the safe too. Victoria took a few deep breaths so she didn't drown in her own mixed emotions. Melbourne gave her a supportive smile as she came back through the shop.

“You'll cheer up soon enough,” he promised. “Flora will be there, and so will Albert and Ernst – they always seem to make you happy.”

Victoria nodded and leaned into Melbourne, her head against his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed before kissing the top of her head. Victoria smiled and turned into him. “You make me happy too.”

Melbourne kissed her head again and wrapped his other arm around her too. “As your boyfriend, I'd hope that I do.”

“Say that again,” Victoria said after a moment, grinning down at the floor.

“As your boyfriend, I'd hope that I make you happy,” he repeated.

“Now only say the first bit,” she told him, laughter creeping into her voice.

Melbourne smiled from the corner of his mouth. “As your boyfriend.”

It had been the first time that the “B” word had been uttered between them. A nervousness about their relationship had stopped the words boyfriend and girlfriend from being used as each of them enjoyed their new sexual and romantic relationship as it was – they couldn't say the words in case the other thought their relationship was something other than that, but suddenly that was over. Victoria jumped up on her toes to kiss him, but it was more smiles than kisses, and her hands lingered over his chest.

“I'm not sure I could run this business without you, William,” Victoria admitted. “And I'm not sure I'd ever want to. If you weren't here than I might have already given up and moved on.”

Melbourne scoffed. “Of course you wouldn't have. You're Victoria – nothing is impossible for you because you put your mind to it. I know things aren't like they were when they opened, but I know you will find a way to make this business thrive like you want it to because you're passionate, and you're full of dreams. From the moment we met I knew that your heart was made of stars and your mind was the sunshine that this building surely needed. Victoria, I have more faith in you than I have ever had in anyone.”

“You're a marvel,” Victoria told him. “I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have the support of someone like you.”

The taxi journey to Uncle Leopold's seemed to last for eternity. Victoria kept one hand in Melbourne's and one hand in her lap as she watched the road go by through the window, keeping her eyes fixed in one place so she didn't end up feeling carsick. The road appeared to stretch on for miles and miles, and with each full turn of the wheels the further away from the grand house Victoria felt. Her hair had been tied back and fastened with hair pins and decorated with pearls and tiny white peonies from Melbourne's allotment. Her dress was pale green, so pale that it almost looked cream in colour and Melbourne could have sworn that she looked like an angel that had been sent from the highest plane to guide him.

Melbourne followed her up the stairs to the house and watched as she reached to ring the doorbell. The clanging could be heard from the outside and Melbourne flexed his hand by his side. The bones and veins popped to the surface of his hand and strained against his rough, cardboard-like skin. They watched the door swing open and the familiar waiters with silver trays welcomed them in with their empty smiles and vacant eyes. Victoria's shoes echoed in the corridor as they made their way to the hall hand in hand, finding Uncle Leopold and Uncle Ernest already together with Mama and Conroy, whispering to each other. They stopped when they realised Victoria and Melbourne had arrived.

“Please, do not stop on our account,” Victoria said, looking between them all. Her free hand was gripped tightly around the crystal champagne flute.

“How lovely to see you and Mr Melbourne again,” Uncle Leopold cried, jovial despite frosty looks that were being exchanged. “How is your shop fairing?”

Victoria sighed but still painted on a smile. “Not as well as we'd like in all honesty, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.”

“That's the spirit,” Uncle Leopold beamed. “I might have something for you both later that might help you. A gift from me and your Uncle Ernest, to our favourite niece and her partner.”

John Conroy smiled his snake like smile that showed all of his teeth, sending shivers of disgust down Victoria's spine. He had a malevolent glint in his eyes. “I would have gotten you a gift also, darling daughter, but I fear you would not have appreciated it.” Conroy reached out to touch Victoria's face with his ghoulish fingers.

She snapped her head to the side, a snarl on her lips. Victoria's hand flew up to Conroy's wrist and she pushed him away with as much energy as she could muster into her tiny body. “You do not have the right to touch me or call me your daughter.”

“I am your father,” Conroy retorted. “I have every right.”

“You are no father of mine. My father died when I was child,” Victoria told him gravely. She barely blinked, staring Conroy in the eyes and refusing to back away.

“That is no way to speak to John,” Mama interjected, slamming down her champagne glass on a nearby solid wood, white coffee table. “He was trying to be nice to you, 'Drina, and you threw it back in his face!”

Victoria let out a brief, disbelieving laugh and she felt Melbourne's hand slide from her hand to around her waist, anchoring her to him. “You have some nerve to tell me what I can or can't do when I no longer consider you to be my mother. A good mother does not lie to her child as you have done, nor does she allow any man to bully her child, whether that man is her father or not!”

John Conroy's face contorted into something that looked like anger and disgust, his eyes feeling colder and darker than ever as they burned into Victoria's face. If she looked close enough she could see the throbbing veins pulsing in his neck and forehead as he lifted his chin. Mama stood by Conroy but she was wide-eyed and unable to meet Victoria's gaze. The tension pulled between them all but Melbourne kept his eyes fixed to Victoria and squeezed her tightly in an attempt to make her feel better and to stop her from launching herself at Conroy and Mama with her fists clenched tight. He always admired Victoria's want to fight for what she believed in.

Uncle Leopold waved his hands between the two warring couples then reached out to touch his sister and niece on their shoulders. His smile wavered as he felt the pressure to pick a side, but he cleared his throat instead and straightened his posture. “Now, let us put this unpleasantness aside. This evening is supposed to be a happy occasion full of celebration and laughter. I'm sure Ernest and Ernst do not want arguments to be their last interactions with you all for however long, I know I certainly do not want that.”

Victoria, Conroy and Mama all bowed their heads and walked away, trying to be as far away from one another as possible, but still glaring at each other from across the room as though they were in competition with one another. It was welcome when Uncle Ernest and Cousin Ernst came striding through the doors, already in a vivacious mood and eager to join the party. Ernst looked around the hall, growing appalled at the bad atmosphere that had been created by Victoria and Melbourne's arrival and the secrets and lies that tore apart mother and daughter. He huffed and flirted with the waiter as he picked up his drink before heading to the piano. Ernst put his glass on the piano lid and stretched his fingers until they cracked, wiggled them, then began to plunk on the keys with a cheeky grin spread over his face. His usually steady and pristine fingers clapped clumsily, making a cacophony of sound to try and cut through the strain of the air.

“I've been practicing all day,” Ernst said, raising his voice over the noise. “I hope it sounds okay!”

“Cut it out, Boy!” Uncle Ernest called, but he smiled despite himself.

“It sounds beautiful, Ernst!” Victoria cried, the skin at the corner of her eyes wrinkling and the smile reappeared across her mouth. “You're going to put Albert to shame,” she told him, watching Albert creep into the hall, arm in arm with Flora and sneaking up behind Ernst who was blissfully unaware of his brother's arrival. Ernst was too busy watching the faces of Uncle Leopold and his Aunt.

Albert put out his arm to touch Ernst's shoulder, moving as quietly as a mouse. The sudden touch made Ernst jump and turn in his seat, the piano noise coming to a screeching halt. The brothers laughed together and hugged one another as though they hadn't seen each other for years when it couldn't have been more than a couple of days. Flora stood behind them, smiling fondly – she looked extra bright and youthful today, Victoria noticed, with glowing skin and a look of peace about her. The brothers sat together on the piano seat and began to play in perfect harmony, bringing the calm, party vibe back to the warring family. Conry and Mama were the first to begin to dance, but Victoria dragged Melbourne out to dance too, still looking at her mother.

Melbourne looked too at Conroy and Mama's close dancing, those two were not looking at anyone else but each other. He looked back at Victoria with a smile.

“Don't worry about them,” he told her. “You owe them nothing – not even your attention or upset.”

Victoria turned her head back to Melbourne with a small nod. “I know...I'll get that into my head eventually. It's still a little raw right now, that's all.” She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling and pupils dilated.

“Then let's dance and forget them,” Melbourne suggested, pressing a kiss to Victoria's forehead and lingering there for a second before spinning her to begin dancing. They travelled slowly around the room and barely stopped when Albert came away from the piano to dance with Flora, leaving Ernst to play on his own, but this time he played perfectly.

A waiter tapped a glass with a dainty silver spoon against a glass, the tinny vibrations echoing in the hall, calling everyone to attention so a silky silence swept over the family. Uncle Leopold made a pleased noise and declared that dinner was ready to be served. Leopold followed the waiter to the dining room, everyone following on too with light chatter. Candles ran down the length of the table, illuminating the cutlery and the vases of fresh flowers that Melbourne had sold earlier in the week. He inspected the petals of a lily, his fingers brushing against it as delicately as though he were touching Victoria.

“You recognise the centerpieces, Mr Melbourne,” Uncle Leopold said, taking his seat at the head of the table. “I asked someone to come to you for these – I think you are quite the talented florist.”

Victoria beamed with pride, taking Melbourne's hand on the table as Melbourne felt a blush on his face. “Thank you, Sir, though I cannot take all the credit for such a wonderful display. The flowers themselves are really the stars here.”

“Humble as ever,” Uncle Leopold said fondly. “I was not wholly convinced of yours and Victoria's courtship to begin with, however, seeing how happy she is with you, and how happy Albert is with Flora, I cannot be more delighted that things have worked out this way.”

The two couples beamed at one another and Albert stood once again as a starter of onion soup was brought to the table and laid on the glass table mats. “This leads nicely into something I have to say to you all...I was going to wait until dessert but I am too excited to wait,” he grinned down at Flora and took her hand. “Flora has agreed to be my wife.”

An excited cheer and pleasantly surprised gasps swept over the table with a few claps too. Ernst stood immediately to bring his brother into a tight hug before kissing Flora's cheeks and calling her 'sister.' Uncle Ernest brimmed with joy at the news his youngest son was to be married. Albert sat back in his chair, unable to stop smiling.

“We wish to be married as soon as possible,” he told the table. “So we are getting married the week before Christmas.”

Mama put a hand to her chest, daydreaming happily. “A whirlwind Christmas wedding! How utterly romantic.”

Flora's cheeks were warm and she sipped at her champagne. “Victoria, darling, we would love for you to be our maid of honour.”

Victoria gazed at Albert and Flora, her jaw slack. Once the news had sunk in, she shut her mouth and clapped her hands together, letting out a little squee of delight. “I would be honoured to!”

“And Ernst, you would be our best man, of course,” Albert said, smiling so much his moustache seemed to be on his nose instead of his lip. He laughed when Ernst pretended to decline the offer, then dramatically accept it again.

Champagne flowed freely, celebrating now the engagement of Albert and Flora instead of the leaving of Uncle Leopold, Uncle Ernest and Ernst, who were now considering staying until Christmas. All bad feelings seemed to melt underneath the happy news, though Mama and Conroy refused to look at and talk to Victoria, even after she made comments to try and rile up the people she could never call her parents. They had a main course of steamed mussels with onions and celery, served with chips that had been twice cooked to be crispy on the outside and soft and fluffy in the middle. For dessert they were served a slice of sweet cheesecake with a filling that had been blended together with meringue and almonds, served with apples and autumn berries.

Fat and full, everyone went back to dance as the waiters began to clear the table. Victoria and Albert played a duet on the piano, working together peacefully – it was hard to imagine that the pair didn't get along up until the last few months. Melbourne and Flora danced together, but they couldn't bring themselves to tear their eyes away from their significant others, both of them looking like love-sick teenagers.

Uncle Leopold and Uncle Ernest stopped the merriment for a moment. “As you know, we have a gift for our niece and Mr Melbourne. We have been rather impressed with their business – we didn't think they would be able to pull off the combination, nor did we believe that 'Drina would make for the best of businesswomen.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Victoria decided, giving her uncles an amused smile.

Uncle Ernest chuckled. “We would like to give you a helping hand with your business since we know how much joy that this has brought you.”

Uncle Leopold took an envelope out from the inside of his jacket pocket, handling it with great care. “We'd like to give you this so you can continue to flourish without worry.” He stepped forward and thrust the envelope into Victoria's small hands.

She held it for a second before turning it over to carefully peel the edges of the envelope flap open. Victoria reached in to slide out a thin, rectangular slip of paper with lots of official printing and a signature from Uncle Leopold at the bottom. Melbourne looked over Victoria's shoulder with his jaw hanging open and his eyebrows raised into his hairline. He was practically frozen on the spot. Victoria looked much the same though her hands were trembling, making the paper wobble. She scanned the cheque to make sure she had been reading it right.

“That...” she began, attempting to get her thoughts in order. “is a lot of zeros.”

Uncle Ernest laughed. “All of which we can afford to lose, especially since this money is going to be used to keep your passion afloat for a long time.”

Victoria flung her arms around Uncle Ernest, then around Uncle Leopold who hugged her back tightly. “I am very proud of you, 'Drina.”

“We are very grateful for your support and this is beyond generous of you,” Melbourne said, shaking Leopold and Ernest by the hand.

“Continue to be a good man to our niece and help her grow. She is young and she can be foolish and we would not like for her to be mistreated and taken advantage of in any way because of this,” Uncle Leopold said, keeping his voice down so it was only a conversation for the four of them to hear. “Guide her and keep her on the right path in life.”

“Trust me, you don't need to worry,” Melbourne assured them. “I would never want to harm Victoria, or let harm come near her, but she is more capable than you seem to realise.”

“Yes, with all due respect, Uncles, I know that I am young and foolish, but I am also a member of your family,” Victoria said, smiling kindly, though she felt tired of being looked at as weak because she was a young woman. “And we are a strong family, and as such, I think I can fight my own battles and look after myself. Should I need to the protection of you both, or William, then I shall ask for it. I do not need to be watched like a hawk.”

Uncle Leopold and Ernest looked between one another with smiles. “Spoken like a true Saxe-Coburg,” Leopold declared. He quickly looked up to see John Conroy, who was whispering with Mama. Leopold's eyes narrowed as he looked to his sister. “No matter what you discover, no matter who your father is, to us, you are a Saxe-Coburg and you shall always be.” He kissed Victoria's temple.

She could feel tears pricking in her eyes and hugged her Uncle Leopold once again, holding him tightly. “Thank you.”

“Go and enjoy yourself, 'Drina,” he instructed, ushering Victoria away from him and Uncle Ernest. Melbourne thanked them again before leading Victoria out on to the balcony so she could get some air – the shock of the cheque, her uncle's kind words, and alcohol, all taking its toll on her. She was giddy with delight and propped her elbows on the balcony rail, looking out at London's own yellow stars held up by metal poles, and listened to the noise of the traffic, the music coming from behind her, and Melbourne's breathing beside her. Melbourne slipped the cheque out of her hand and tucked it away in his jacket, keeping it safe.

It was a peaceful evening and Victoria's breath swirled in front of her and disappeared into the dark. The skin on her arms was going pink and little bumps were forming all over, but she ignored them. Melbourne slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around Victoria's shoulders before leaning against the rail himself, looking at Victoria more than the view.

“Things are getting better already,” Melbourne said softly.

Victoria turned her head, smiling, and rest her head on Melbourne's shoulder. “I know...and I'm sure things will only keep getting better.”

“What shall we do with this money?” Melbourne asked, slipping his arm around Victoria's waist. The light breeze made the scent of the peonies in her hair waft under his nose.

She took a few moments to think, nodding slowly. “I think we should spend some of it on advertising...then some on building a website. Lots of things are done online these days, right? We can build a website, list our coffee types and prices, list the prices for bouquets, all that kind of stuff and build on the website as our business grows.”

Melbourne grinned and brushed a strand of hair away from Victoria's face, battling against the wind to keep it one place. “That sounds like a brilliant idea. I'm not sure I would've thought about having an online presence.”

“That's what makes me so brilliant,” Victoria teased. She came away from the railing and kissed Melbourne's cheek. He put his arms around her waist, careful not to knock the jacket that was hanging off Victoria's frame and kissed her lips to agree with her. He had kissed these lips now more than he could count, always finding an opportunity to bring their skin close together and feeling fireworks and sparks every time. Victoria touched Melbourne's chest, feeling his strong, caring heartbeat through her fingertips and his lungs expand with every breath.

“I love you,” Melbourne whispered to her, almost too quiet for her to hear if she had been any further away than in her arms.

Victoria raised her eyebrows, smiling so her nose crinkled. She could feel her heart of stars begin to shine even brighter, threatening to make it explode and engulf Victoria and Melbourne in deep feeling. She kissed him again, gentle, almost feather-like which left Melbourne wanting more.

“I love you too, William, I love you too.”


	10. Silver and Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria and Melbourne are enjoying their first winter season in Espressaroma and Albert and Flora get married.

December came with a sense of childlike wonder. They sky was a shimmering silver tone on most days, teasing London with the possibility of snow and a white Christmas beneath the twinkling lights that had been tied to lampposts and garden gates. Beyond those gates were Santa Claus faces in the windows of homes and flats, the fuzzy, far away outlines of Christmas trees, and children craning their necks up towards the sky as they sat by the window, their eyes wide with joy and anticipation. Even though the air was cold, it was peppered with winter magic that left a warm sensation within everyone of any age.

Espressaroma had been adorned with gold and silver tinsel across the counters, and paper snowflakes had been stuck to the windows. Victoria had made Melbourne sit with her on the floor with a pile of plain paper, scissors and glitter. She taught him how to make the snowflakes with mugs of hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows beside them, and the lights on low with one of Victoria's Christmas playlists on in the background. It had ended with them kissing slowly with sparkles stuck to their hands and so their touches left them with tiny stars all over their skin.

Their new website and advertising had been up for a month, bringing much needed customers now the summer rush was well and truly over. The big coffee chains had people hanging out of the doors, the festive coffee ranges were selling out and customers were looking for somewhere new to get their caffeine fix. Espressaroma came with fast service, friendly owners, a homely and warm atmosphere, and comforting home-style coffee at a cheap price. Victoria's heart grew a size bigger with every customer that came through the doors. She wasn't the only one thrilled by the new customers – Dash loved the attention from them all too – weaving in and out of the tables and trying to get cuddles, but he loved nothing more than the hugs and attention he would receive from Victoria of an evening. Victoria and Melbourne would sit close together on the sofa with Victoria putting her legs up on Melbourne's lap and Dash perched comfortably on Victoria's thighs as they lazily watched the television after a hectic day, letting the evening pass them by. The busy holiday trading season made Flora and Albert's wedding approach quicker than a freight train.

After closing the day before the wedding, Melbourne sat behind his till, putting together a new bouquet whilst Victoria cleaned up and counted their takings, grinning as she put it into the safe. Melbourne smiled too, but it faltered when he looked back down at the bouquet that Flora would take down the aisle with her. He wasn't particularly fond of weddings these days – his own marriage had failed and he soon came to realise that the promises made during those ceremonies really meant very little. They were just words that you have to say, not necessarily adhere to. Divorce is a lot easier than it used to be, so getting married at all didn't feel like too big of a commitment when the possibility of a hassle free divorce is always an option. Melbourne's children had died before they had grown old enough to experience a wedding, he saw how Victoria's life had been turned upside down thanks to a marriage that was ill-suited. Even his own parents' marriage had been one plagued with affairs thanks to his mother, but Melbourne remembered his father being rather unaffected by his wife's affairs. He was still intimate and sweet with her and they very rarely got into arguments. _Perhaps affairs work for some marriages_ , Melbourne thought.

“What's the matter?” Victoria asked as she walked behind Melbourne and slid her arms around his shoulders. She kissed his neck.

Melbourne grinned. “Nothing is the matter now. Would you like to help me put Albora's wedding flowers together?”

Victoria snorted and raised an eyebrow at him. “Albora?”

“Albert and Flora,” he explained. “Isn't that what young people are doing these days? Putting together individual persons names in a couple to make one name? I've been hearing people say 'Kimye' a lot lately, I still don't know who they are, but I know now that they're two separate people, who are married, famous and popular with young people.”

“You're such a Granddad – I love it,” Victoria said fondly, kissing Melbourne's cheek and taking a seat next to him. She started to fashion together one of the aisle decorations, tying the stems together with silver ribbon. The table was full of white roses, purple hellebores, pale pink andromeda flowers, lilac freesias and seeded eucalyptus leaves in olive green. The soft scents reminded Victoria of spring and her skin grew warmer just thinking about the mild weather. “I've never been to a wedding,” she told Melbourne after a while, setting aside one of the finished arrangements in a wicker basket on the floor. Dash jumped up from his cosy spot to sniff them.

Melbourne was careful with the bridal bouquet, barely brushing the petals of the flowers against one another. “They aren't that great,” he said, not looking up from his flowers. “Then again, the last wedding I attended was my own.”

“Did the day not go well?” Victoria asked, sympathy creeping into her already gentle voice.

“As well as a wedding day can actually go. When I think about the day, all I can really think about is the divorce that came after it, so it's hardly the happiest of thoughts.”

“Maybe Albora's wedding will change your opinion on weddings,” Victoria teased, nudging Melbourne gently with her elbow and beaming from ear to ear. He kept his soft but firm grip on the white ranunculus as he was jostled by her.

Melbourne gave her a crooked smile, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “Maybe.”

The wedding outfits hung from Victoria's wardrobe doors. Melbourne had treated himself to a brand new suit (with the encouragement of Victoria) so he didn't have to wear his funeral suit again, leaving it to hang at the back of his own wardrobe to collect dust. His new one was crisp where his other had been worn down on the arms and knees from where he had worn it for a number of years. Victoria had even bought him a silver paisley tie to match her own silver Maid of Honour gown. It was a dress that hit the ground when she wore it, though it did have to be altered as the original length left too much material on the floor where she could trip or get her heels caught in the delicate material. The bodice was made of lace so she had a white, faux fur bolero to wear over the top. Melbourne looked at the outfits with an air of worry. His palms became clammy, his throat went dry and his heart jumped with dread whenever he saw them. Melbourne shook his head, not letting the anxiety ruin Victoria's excitement as she talked excitedly about her Maid of Honour duties.

“I love the idea of getting married outside in December,” Victoria thought out-loud, staring up at her dress as it rippled from breeze coming through the open window. “But I'm not sure the reality is quite so romantic as the idea. It's got to be too cold, surely?”

“It's a good job it's only the ceremony that's outside.”

Victoria let out a short laugh. “I'd hardly call being in a marquee tent being inside!”

Melbourne shrugged. “It's better than nothing. The dinner and reception being outside, without the marquee, could possibly be an issue if they had chosen to do that.”

“Thank God that they didn't,” Victoria sighed, looking over her shoulder at Melbourne who was sat in his dressing gown on the bed and trying to read his book, using it as a shield to avoid looking at the wedding outfits.

Victoria flopped herself over the bed, lying down on her stomach and reached out to touch Melbourne's book. “What are you reading?”

“A biography on William Pitt the Elder,” he said, still scanning the page.

“It looks old,” Victoria told him, running her fingers along he squashed corners and folded pages.

Melbourne nodded. “That's because I bought it from a second-hand shop.”

“Oh.” She sighed and rolled off the bed when she realised he wasn't up for anything else except an evening of reading. Victoria slowly got changed into her own pyjama's, smiling when she noticed that Melbourne was now peering at her from over the top of his book with a soft blush on his cheeks and narrowed eyes.

Victoria's alarm clock beeped incessantly the next morning. Her eyes snapped open as soon as it started and she slammed her hand on the off button before rolling over to snuggle up against Melbourne, but just like the first night they spent together, she continued to roll into the empty space in the bed. She pouted, sat herself upright and scanned her eyes across the bedroom, finding no other person there. Melbourne's wedding suit still hung untouched on the wardrobe. The cold had frosted the windows and Victoria could see her breath in front of her – with only the sound of her own breathing, the flat was deathly silent. She got out of bed and slipped on Melbourne's dressing gown which was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. She turned on the heating and went to the living room to find no one there either, it was the same for the kitchen and the bathroom too. Not even Dash was in the flat. Victoria crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to let worry take her. She knew, logically, that M was more likely than not, walking Dash before he was left alone for the day since animals weren't allowed at the wedding. However, in the deep recesses of Victoria's mind, she worried about Melbourne and Dash like she always did when they weren't around.

She made enough coffee for her and M and put food in Dash's bowl in the kitchen. Victoria stood by the living room window with her mug in hand, staring down at the iced street below. There was only a week to go until Christmas, but when you looked down out of the window you could be forgiven for thinking that it was already Christmas day thanks to the frost and the complete absence of anyone. Victoria reached her fingertips to the window to draw shapes in the condensation, jumping when the flat door swung open and Dash came bounding in to get a stroke from Victoria before going to the kitchen to eat.

“Morning,” said the familiar voice behind her. Melbourne wrapped his arm around Victoria's waist and kissed her head. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I wish you were there when I woke up though,” she admitted.

Melbourne let go of her to take off his coat and scarf. “I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep,” he said apologetically.

“Too excited for the wedding?” she guessed, smiling up at him.

“Something like that,” he answered hesitantly. “Shouldn't you be going over to help Flora get ready?”

Victoria nodded and sipped at her coffee. “Once I've drunk this I'll get changed, take my wedding outfit and go. I'll miss you though.”

Melbourne chuckled and scratched his stubbled chin. “We'll see each other this afternoon.”

“Not the point!” Victoria laughed and came over to kiss Melbourne's cheek, stepping up on her toes to do so. “I'm going to need a step ladder one of these days.”

“You'll just have to kiss me when I'm sitting down. I'm going to jump in the shower, then update the website – we got another good review.”

Victoria downed the rest of her coffee, letting it scald her throat. “Oh, yay! I'll read it on the way to Flora's. I'll follow you into the shower – it'll save time.”

“I can hardly say no to a proposition like that,” Melbourne told her, amused. He followed her to the bathroom like a man possessed.

The quiet after Victoria left unnerved Melbourne. He put on the television in Victoria's living room and turned the volume up as far as he was able as he sat in his jeans and t-shirt to do admin work on the shop, rather than force himself to prepare for the wedding that he'd really rather not go to. There was always the option of pretending something had come up that meant he could no longer attend, but he knew that Victoria would see through that far too easily and the disappointment from her could possibly kill him emotionally, and physically if she was so inclined to. Melbourne was under no doubt that she could give him all Hell if she wanted, but he wasn't about to sit around and find out whether or not that would happen today.

He swiftly made his way back to his own flat to pour himself a small glass of whisky. The warm amber liquid always felt comforting when he was anxious or full of dread, but this time the usual bittersweet toffee and sesame scent made Melbourne's stomach turn. He drank from his short glass, letting the fruity and earthy undertone flavours swirl around his mouth and burn his throat. There was a strange metallic aftertaste on his tongue that made the sickness in his stomach rise to his chest. Usually the alcohol made everything better, but this time he felt like he had been drinking petrol, so he poured the rest of it down the sink.

The frost had melted away by the time that Melbourne arrived at the Chelsea Physic Garden which left the grass wet and wilted. He followed the path with his hands deep inside of his pockets and ignoring the press of his collar and tie against his throat, looking at all the more winter hardy flowers and foliage. His own flowers that had been fastened together for aisle decorations had been tied to the chairs that sat at the end of each row, either side the white material that Flora would soon be walking down, holding more of Melbourne's flowers. She would be followed by her bridesmaids and Victoria, who Melbourne was sure would be beaming from ear to ear. He took his seat at the front, looking over his shoulder to see the intimate amount of guests that were there already. Victoria's Mama looked away from him when their eyes met whilst John Conroy kept staring, trying to burn a hole in Melbourne. Melbourne stared back, refusing to let Conroy 'win' and smiled to himself when Mama nudged Conroy so he looked away. The band sat near the white wedding arch, softly playing their instruments and shivering beneath the cold and their coats. Fairy lights adorned the marquee further along the garden, sparkling like stars through the cloud and the already darkening sky. Melbourne could only just see the shadows inside the marquee that were putting the finishing touches on the dinner and the reception.

The band began to play louder, seemingly without warning which made Melbourne almost jump from his seat. The guests not yet sat scrambled to their seat a little sheepishly, watching as Albert came striding down the aisle with his hands close to his sides, his fists nervously clenched. Ernst followed with a large grin and squeezed Albert's shoulder when they got to the arch which made Albert relax his hands. Their father followed with pride and took his seat on the same row as Melbourne at the front. He rubbed his hands together and breathed on them when his sons weren't looking. The music became soft again as the officiant took his place under the arch as well, sharing some quiet and comforting words with the groom. Melbourne watched them with an absent glare, blocking the memories of his own wedding day. Now he was in a new relationship with a woman he very much cared for, he didn't feel it was fair for him to be dwelling on his previous marriage. The band picked up again, playing an easily recognisable tune, which made everyone turn to look simultaneously at the back of the aisle where Flora was slowly beginning to walk, but Melbourne barely saw her.

Victoria was two steps behind Flora with her hands clasped around one of Melbourne's bouquets. She made his flowers flourish even further just by touching them with her precious fingers and looking at them with her hallowed eyes. Melbourne's jaw felt slack as he watched her gracefully walk with her head held high and a romantic smile on her face. Her skin was remarkably pale against the silver of her dress, a small slither of her shoulder peaked out from the bolero. Her hair had been curled into large waves and left untied to sit way down past her shoulders and chest to halfway down her back. She had only one single silver barrette in her hair to keep it from blowing into her face in the winter winds, whilst her face had been made up in neutral tones with some silver shimmer on her eyelids. Melbourne smiled as she walked past him and she broke her graceful walk to wave at him before the ceremony began.

Albert, until now, had refused to look behind him at his bride. He was looking down at the ground when Flora finally reached his side, so the first thing he saw was the bottom of her silk fishtail gown that was covering her feet, even when she was wearing heels. Albert's eyes went to Flora's bodice which was made entirely of lace and had lace sleeves that sat tight against her arms and ended at her wrists, then he saw her hands which held the bouquet for dear life, then to her face which was already threatening to cry and ruin her beautifully natural make-up. Flora was the only person in the bridal party to have her hair pinned up to set her apart from every one else, and she had a small tiara delicately placed against her blonde tresses. Albert laughed with the sheer disbelief that someone so beautiful was standing with him at the altar and Ernst had to squeeze his shoulders and pat Albert's back to get him to snap out of his trance and take Flora's outstretched hand.

The ceremony, for Melbourne, seemed to last for hours as he listened to the various readings and the sharing of vows, the promises that he didn't believe would really be kept and watched the exchanging of rings that seemed more sacred a ritual than it really was. Caroline had touched and kissed another man whilst wearing her wedding ring and then dropped it on the ground when the marriage finally ended, letting it roll away and be lost. Melbourne shook his head – he was looking at Flora and Albert, not the ghosts of Caroline and himself. This whirlwind relationship and marriage seemed to have the blessing of all they knew, plus the two seemed to only have eyes for one another – this could really work and he needed to stop bringing his own pessimism into other relationships. He looked back at Victoria who was quietly wiping away tears with her index finger with rose red cheeks and a smile that was full of nothing but the best of wishes and love for her cousin and her friend and now cousin-in-law. Cheers erupted from the intimate gathering of people as the newly married couple kissed. The bridesmaids began throwing confetti over them which made Albert breakaway in laughter and look up at the sky.

“It's like snow!” he chuckled. “If it were real snow then this would be the perfect winter wedding.”

Flora looked up too at the grey clouds and paid attention to the goosebumps and cold air on her skin. “Be careful what you wish for, dear Husband, the snow could very much become a reality.”

There was a busy rush as Flora and Albert signed their marriage papers and posed for photos with the bridesmaids and Victoria, then alone. Victoria pulled Melbourne up from his seat by the hand, pulling him in for a kiss, taking full advantage of the fact she didn't need to jump up to kiss him or stand on her toes thanks to her heels.

“I think I could get used to being this height,” she muttered, still smiling. “Wasn't that beautiful? I'm so happy for them – they both deserve to be happy.” Victoria put her bouquet down so she could straighten Melbourne's collar and tie. “You look so handsome.”

Melbourne gently touched Victoria's hair, smiling crookedly from the corner of his mouth. “And I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you...” he hesitated and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I think you look better than the bride.”

Victoria faked a gasp and put her hand to her chest. “William Lamb-Melbourne, watch your mouth – you should never say such a thing at a wedding!” She was smiling as she pretended to be offended, but her eyes sparkled with thanks.

A photographer tapped Victoria on the shoulder so he could get a few solo photos of her and then a few with her and Melbourne. He smiled through the photographs, pretending that he didn't completely hate the idea of being the subject of photos, though he thought that with Victoria beside him, all the attention would be put on her rather than himself. Melbourne saw John Conroy and Mama staring again and distracted Victoria long enough for them to walk away without being seen by her.

Thankfully, dinner was served soon after the ceremony and the guests relished in being inside the marquee with a number of portable heaters. There was a section with a few tables where food was being served and another hidden by a screen for the reception with plenty of space to dance and a bar too. The speeches were short but wrought with emotion and care, making a number of the guests begin to tear up all over again and they wiped their eyes with their fabric napkins. Ernst, being Ernst, came away from the romantic and sentimental words and instead shared humorous stories of their childhood, sharing Albert's quirks with all, and making the occasional rude joke which made Uncle Leopold, Uncle Ernest and Mama all sit up and avoid eye contact with anyone and making their faces grow beetroot red.

Victoria took a sip from her glass and laughed. “I've drunk more champagne over the last few months than I have my entire life! How odd, don't you think, M?”

Melbourne nodded. “Though I suppose that's what happens when your family is wealthy and your uncle is the Prince of Belgium. Champagne easily becomes as ordinary as a bottle of supermarket beer or wine.”

“Though much tastier, you must agree,” Uncle Leopold interrupted. “I see you have a new website for the business – I'm so glad the money seems to be useful for you.”

Victoria brightened at the comment and put down her knife and fork so she could engage with her uncle in full force. “Thank you, Uncle. I'm not really sure we can thank you quite enough. The website seems to be picking up more traffic every day! We've managed to pay for advertising, we've paid for Google to link to us when people search for London cafes or florists, we've managed to get on review websites and we're actually getting a number of wonderful reviews. I mean, only last week we were as busy as when we first opened!”

Leopold watched her wave her hands around wildly to emphasise her point and then looked to Melbourne's amused face, both Melbourne and Uncle Leopold smiled fondly at each other. “I am so glad to hear that, 'Drin-” Uncle Leopold paused and let out a breath. “I mean, I am so glad to hear that, Victoria.”

The self-correction made Victoria beam and the rest of the wedding dinner went as smoothly as it could with everyone laughing and in high spirits. The cutting of the wedding cake was a great photo opportunity but Victoria thought it was quite funny that they had to hold the knife halfway in their cake for a few minutes whilst pretending that they were still actually slicing through it. It was three tiers and decorated with deceptively realistic fondant flowers and pine-cones down the sides. Victoria hummed happily as her fork glided through the chocolate cake with hazelnut buttercream. Melbourne ended up sharing half of his with her too, not being the biggest fan of hazelnut, but he didn't mind eating less, especially when Victoria was so happy.

Uncle Leopold and Uncle Ernest led the wedding guests to the second half of the marquee, allowing for the clean-up after dinner to take place. The new husband and wife came through last to more cheers and claps as they prepared for their first dance – slow and romantic which only made Albert and Flora both cry as they danced, ignoring the guests who were all swaying along to the music, and they entered into their own little newly-wed bubble. They barely heard everyone clapping when the song came to a delicate end and the new one began, but no one stepped out on to the floor to join the bride and groom in the dancing. Victoria glanced around and took Melbourne's hand, pulling her rather startled William out on to the floor to dance. She gave him apologetic smile.

“I'm the Maid of Honour, I'm supposed to get the party started if no one will dance. No one ever likes going first.”

Melbourne nodded, smiling that crooked smile that Victoria adored so much. “You're lucky that I love you.”

Victoria beamed. “You're right there. I am the luckiest.”

Half an hour of dancing occurred before a break in the band's set began and Flora tapped a spoon against a champagne glass. “Time for the bouquet toss!” she announced. “Unmarried women, follow me!”

The girls shrieked with excitement and followed her. A few of those girls who were in relationships had their partners follow them out too, all looking at one another a little nervously. The photographer kept his distance and used a longer lens to get the best shot of the toss. A few of the girls pretended to stretch as Flora took her place a few feet ahead of them all. Victoria decided to stand near the front, knowing she would be swallowed up by all the naturally taller girls in all their high heels and long limbs. The bouquet came flying towards the group of girls like a large snowball and Victoria could see spindly arms rising beside her, the girls all reaching up and brushing the flowers with their fingers, trying to grab it before anyone else. In the rush, the bouquet was knocked towards the ground by the barrage of hands that tried to catch it and it landed directly in Victoria's calm hands. Some of the men watching all visibly relaxed whilst Melbourne stood shocked. Flora turned to see what had happened and burst out laughing when she saw Victoria's sheepish face as she held up the flowers.

The 'losing' girls grumbled on their way back inside the marquee with their significant others as Flora came to get another photo with Victoria; she even managed to get Melbourne in for another photo too. Flora linked her arms with Melbourne and Victoria, looking between them once the photographer had gone.

“Darlings, you must tell me what you are up to for Christmas,” she told them, walking them around the marquee so they had some privacy to talk.

Victoria and Melbourne looked at one another and shrugged. “I think we were planning on having a quiet day in the flat,” Melbourne admitted.

Flora smiled. “Wonderful! Victoria, Albert and I have been talking and we know you won't want to spend Christmas with your Mama and Conroy, so we would like you, and you of course, William, to spend the day with us instead!”

“You won't want to spend your first Christmas together alone?” Victoria asked, raising her eyebrows and lifting the bouquet to smell it.

“Certainly not,” Flora told her firmly. “Especially when we know that the alternative is having you both alone in a flat without a proper Christmas meal. We'd love to have you two stay with us.”

“How kind of you, Mrs Saxe-Coburg,” Victoria teased.

Flora sighed dreamily, looking up to the sky. “Mrs Flora Saxe-Coburg! Doesn't that sound splendid? I must get back to the reception – Congratulations on catching the bouquet, Victoria, I'm sure the two of you appreciate the humour in having the bouquet come back full circle. Perhaps I shall be the Maid of Honour to _you_ very soon.” Flora let go of her two friends and walked back inside the marquee.

Victoria grinned at Melbourne and took his hand, the pair taking a brisk walk around the garden. “Isn't that lovely of Flora and Albert to have us for Christmas?! It's going to be so much fun for it to be the four of us together.” She paused as she noticed Melbourne looking down at the bridal bouquet in Victoria's hand. “Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to get down on one knee. I'm really quite happy the way things are now.”

“Me too.” Melbourne wrapped his arm around Victoria's waist and pulled her close for a soft kiss, savouring the taste of her hazelnut and champagne lips. He was the first to notice the cold drops falling as they settled on his head and melted on his thinning hair. He let their lips part as a snowflake fell on Victoria's nose, making her crinkle it up and go cross-eyed as she tried to look at it before it melted. Melbourne laughed and touched her hair as more snow began to fall and melt into Victoria's dark locks, unable to resist kissing her once again, ignoring the snow and the cold that fell around them.

* * *

 Monday morning came around in a flash. Melbourne and Victoria showered, had breakfast, walked Dash and prepared the shop for opening like they always did and found the time to kiss and mutter tender words in-between their ordinary chores. Victoria put the bridal bouquet in a vase of water and placed the vase by her till on the coffee station, grinning madly as Melbourne laughed at her sentimentality.

A number of people were stood outside Espressaroma in their coats, hats and scarves, peering in the window and waiting for the shop to open so they could grab a coffee before work, have a breakfast date with their loved ones, have a catch-up with those family members they rarely saw, or buy flowers as early Christmas presents for their partners. Melbourne waved at the postman as he walked past on his round at 8:45am, laden with Christmas cards and presents. Melbourne knew that Mrs Johnson would stop by in half an hour on her way to work and he could see Mr Horrick through the small gathering of people, waiting patiently for his Monday fortnightly bunch of carnations.

Victoria smiled over at Melbourne, grabbing her key to the doors as she looked out at the window too. “Ready?”

William Lamb-Melbourne took his own key from his pocket as they went to open, which made the customers press themselves further against the windows and doors in the hopes that they would get in first.

“With you by my side?” he asked, slipping the key into lock and turning it. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, it's all over until next year!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this fic and you'll come back to this universe in Spring 2017 for the sequel that I'm already planning! I really appreciate everyone's support, comments, likes, kudos, everything - you guys are awesome.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to make this work something quite fun with lots of popular tropes and cliches, a non-serious and lighthearted story that's fairly easy in both reading and writing. I hope to be able to update this little project at least once a week as I have plenty of ideas in my head and I'd like to use it in parts of my final year university work as well! I hope you enjoy it :)


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